


The Wolf

by Yokan



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Drama, F/M, Love triangle of sorts I guess?, Mentions of Klaus/Genevieve, One-sided Elijah/Caroline, Slow Burn, The Originals Season 1 Rewriting, lovers to frenemies to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2020-05-12 06:05:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 307,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19223143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yokan/pseuds/Yokan
Summary: When Caroline wakes up shackled, powerless and very far away from Mystic Falls, she knows she's in serious trouble. But when a woman named Sophie Deveraux reveals the reason why she's been kidnapped and taken to New Orleans, she realizes things are far worse than she could've ever imagined.[It's The Originals Season 1, but Caroline is a witch and she's pregnant with Klaus' child. That's it.]





	1. S01E01 Always and Forever

**Author's Note:**

> This is **The Originals season 1**. I preserved as much of the show's story lines as possible, even down to some scenes, only left out the bits that did not interest me or that would not serve my purpose of rewriting the story with Caroline at the center of it all. I obviously shifted the focus of almost everything and changed a lot of the dynamics between characters for obvious reasons. But **it's still The Originals**. I don't know how to make this any clearer. If you absolutely hate the baby plot, if you can't stand the show or if you don't like the characters the way they are portrayed in The Originals, then maybe sit this one out. Klaus is very much The Originals!Klaus here, have that in mind.
> 
> There is no Hayley in this story. Camille is not a romantic interest. BUT PLEASE, READ THE TAGS! And think very carefully if you really want to read this or if it's not gonna make you mad. I don't want anybody to be upset, this is fanfiction, guys! 
> 
> This is kind of a test-drive. I'm a little iffy on whether rewriting TO S1 completely is even a good idea. lol So your feedback is very much welcome and appreciated. If you do read this, if you enjoy the premise, if you would like me to keep going, please drop me a note and let me know your thoughts. :) If you hate it and still decide to read it, please be respectful and kind. Costs you nothing, I promise!
> 
> Also, I apologize for any mistakes you might find. English is not my first language. However, the story was made significantly better by [coveredinthecolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/pseuds/coveredinthecolors) and her awesome inputs. Also, thank you so much for the encouragement and for listening to me babbling about this story. If you wanna blame someone this is up, it's her.

Caroline's vision swims before her, spots of color dancing before her eyes. For a moment there, her mind feels completely blank, so wildly out of focus she can't even identify her surroundings.

Sounds consolidate first; a low whirring of a fan, then the distant chirping of birds, and finally a creaking noise, like steps on an old wooden floor.

She tries to move her head, but is hit by such a wave of dizziness that everything starts spinning around, and she has to shut her eyes and stay very still. A low moan escapes her lips, her mouth so dry it's like it's filled with cotton. Not on her worst drinking binges did she ever wake up feeling like this.

The last thing she remembers is Taylor Swift. She was in her car, on the way to the Salvatores' mansion, and _Ready for it?_ started playing. Stefan and Damon were keeping Elena locked up in a box for days to no avail and Caroline wanted to have a word with them about their _methods_.

Then... Nothing.

She's not in any pain, not that she can tell, but she feels heavy all over with an unnatural sort of lethargy she can't explain. When she opens her eyes again, the world has stopped spinning and she can finally see more clearly, although it doesn't seem to be of much help.

She has no idea where she is.

The room is barren save for a few simple wooden furniture pieces — the bed she's on, an old closet, a small table next to the bed and a chair. Sunlight shines in through a large window, a gentle breeze swaying the white curtains.

All she sees of the outside is the lushy green top of a tree framed by a clear blue sky. Aside from the birds, there's no more sounds to indicate where she is, but the quietness tells her it's probably not the city center or even anywhere close to a road. Maybe somewhere near the woods, although the tree doesn't look quite right — and neither does the weather, come to think of it.

It was chilly and cloudy when she left her house, so, unless she's been knocked out for a long time, this isn't Mystic Falls anymore.

She tries to move her hands and realizes there's something binding them. A chain. Old and rusty but sturdy, with large metal cuffs around her wrists.

"What the..."

Caroline forces the chains, twisting and pulling, trying to slip her hands free. When everything fails, she takes a deep breath, shutting her eyes to fight off the dizziness to call upon her magic. But nothing happens.

Her magic is completely muted. She can feel it inside of her, but it's as though it's gone dormant. Maybe it's her foggy mind, or perhaps it's the location. Some houses are spelled against magic. But if that's the case, she is in serious trouble.

A cold spreads in her guts. Someone took her, brought her to a place likely far away from home and stripped her of her powers. _Oh, boy…_

Her survival instincts kicking in, Caroline sits up in bed, but is racked with so much nausea she can barely hold herself up.

"Oh. You're awake."

She whips her head to the door, where a woman is leaning against the threshold. A woman she's never seen before in her life. She's very tiny — short and thin like a twig. Caroline could probably take her on, with or without magic, if only her body wasn't so debilitated.

"Who the hell are you?" she slurs, having trouble keeping the contents of her feeble stomach in.

"Just a second."

She disappears for a moment and returns with a glass of water. "Drink this."

Caroline stares down the woman and doesn't move. How much of an idiot does she take Caroline for?

"It's just water." She takes a large gulp from the glass. "See?" When Caroline still refuses to accept, she sighs and puts it down on the nightstand, pulling the chair closer to the bed for herself.

"Who are you?" Caroline repeats in a short, clipped tone.

"My name is Sophie Deveraux."

"Is that supposed to mean anything to me?"

"Not really."

"What the hell do you want with me? What is this place?"

"This is a safe house. The answer to the first question is slightly more complicated and needs a bit of context. But everything will be explained to you in due time. Right now I just want to make sure you're ok."

Caroline scoffs. "I've been kidnapped and chained to a bed by a complete stranger who won't even tell me what the hell is going on. No, I'm not ok."

"I don't like the shackles either, but we couldn't take any chances. They're enchanted."

 _Oh._ So it's the chains, then. "I've noticed," she snaps bitterly.

"It's for your own good, trust me. I don't like doing this to a sister, but -"

"Sister? You're a witch?"

"Yeah. A French Quarter witch."

"French Quarter?"

"New Orleans."

"I know where the French Quarter is. I'm trying to understand what a New Orleans witch could possibly want with me. I have never even been to that place."

"You have now."

"What?" Caroline asks in disbelief. She could tell she wasn't in Mystic Falls, but New Orleans? That's over 13 hours away by car. How long has she been out? "All right. Answers. _Now_."

A rattling sound and the creaking of the floorboards catches her attention again, and soon another woman walks in, carrying a tray. She smiles when she lays eyes on Caroline, and the resemblance to the one she'd been talking to is hard to miss, although she seems slightly older and less like the rebellious rock-and-roll kind.

"Good! You're up," the other woman says, putting the tray down as well. It's what appears to be a grilled cheese sandwich and orange juice. What's up with these people trying to get her to eat their food whilst keeping her chained?

"This is my sister, Jane-Anne," Sophie says, while Jane-Anne smiles kindly. Caroline would fancy her chances against _both_ of them.

"You must be starving," Jane-Anne says.

"You're out of your minds if you think I'm having anything from you."

"I told you, it's not poisoned." Sophie takes a bite out of one half of the grilled cheese and a sip of the juice, opening her arms in a _See?_ sort of gesture. "I'm a chef. I have principles against ruining perfectly good food."

Caroline can't even consider stomaching anything right now; just the smell of food makes her insides twirl. The water is very tempting, but she's too knowledgeable of witchy tricks to fall for this. If they really are what they say, it's even more likely they've tampered with it in a way she won't notice until it's too late.

"You know what? Here." Sophie puts a hand inside her blouse and pulls out a key, then she leans towards Caroline, pulling on the chains to unshackle her.

"Sophie -"

"She needs to trust us, Jane-Anne. I'm taking these off as a sign of good will, but I wouldn't do anything if I were you," she says, a clear warning in her tone as the cuffs finally fall from Caroline's wrists.

She doesn't even blink before she uses her powers on Sophie, smashing her body hard against the wall across the room.

The exact moment Sophie hits the wall, however, Caroline sees stars as a hot wave of pain spreads on her side — the same spot Sophie is grabbing on the floor while she moans. It's as though she was the one attacked.

"What the fuck?!" she roars, breathless.

"Shit..." Sophie breathes out hard, slowly pulling herself up. "I told you not to do anything."

"What the hell was that?!"

"You're linked," Jane-Anne says, helping her sister back on the chair.

"What?"

"You and Sophie have been linked together, by magic. Everything that happens to her, happens to you, and vice-versa."

Sophie looks up at her sister, something dark flashing across her eyes. "Do you think Marcel will be able to tell?"

"Maybe. She's not one of us, but magic is magic anyway. We should move her out of here, just in case."

"Nobody's going anywhere until I get some answers," Caroline grits out, ready to start using physical violence if needed be. Being surrounded by vampires left and right has rubbed off on her.

"Ok," Sophie says, exhaling and wincing a little at the pang that shoots across her torso - Caroline knows because she feels it too. "It's nothing personal. We brought you here because we needed to confirm something."

"Couldn't you make a phone call? Send an email?"

"Not exactly," Jane-Anne replies.

"You're our key to Klaus Mikaelson," Sophie continues.

Caroline blinks. "What?"

"It was the only way we could lure him back to New Orleans."

Caroline looks from one sister to the other; they look absolutely solemn. "You kidnapped me to serve as Klaus bait?"

"The short version, yes," Sophie says, shrugging.

"Well, that's the dumbest idea anyone's ever had. What makes you think Klaus would go anywhere because of me? If you wanted to drag him here, you should've gotten one of his siblings. Or one of his hybrids, before he slaughtered them all. Even a doppelganger would've done the trick. I'm nothing to him."

Even as she says it, Caroline knows it's not entirely true. He'd likely go to her rescue if she'd been taken as far as Richmond, maybe. But even if she is _something_ to him, to think Klaus would drop everything in Virginia to cross entire states for her is laughable.

The sisters exchange a look. "Well, from what we've heard, that's debatable," Jane-Anne says. "But in any case, it's not really _you_ we're hoping will get his attention. It's what's inside of you."

"What are you talking about?" Caroline asks, eyebrows crinkling together in confusion.

"Have you been feeling different lately? More tired than usual, maybe? Morning sickness?" Sophie asks.

"What the hell are you suggesting?"

"Are you late, by any chance?"

She gapes at her captors when she finally gets where they're going. That's it. She's been taken hostage by two complete lunatics. "Are you serious now?" she asks, looking at the sisters in complete disbelief. "I'm not pregnant."

"Have you been tested?"

"No! I don't have to get tested, because I'm not pregnant."

Sophie cocks her a suspicious eyebrow.

She did throw up her entire breakfast all through last week, but that had been an ordinary gastroenteritis. And, ok, her period _is_ late, but that's also not abnormal, considering the immense amount of stress she's been under, what, with prom, graduation, Elena turning off her humanity and freaking Silas terrorizing everyone and making her murder 12 other witches just to save Bonnie... She's barely slept all through last month. That her period would get affected is the least of her concerns. Besides... There's no way. "I _can't_ be pregnant. It's biologically impossible."

"Are you sterile?"

"Not that I know of, but unless you've artificially fertilized me while I was knocked out, trust me, there's no way I'm pregnant."

"So you haven't slept with Klaus?"

Caroline chokes. "Excuse me! That's none of your freaking business."

"It kind of is now that you're carrying his child."

"What the hell are you people? Do you not know how vampires work? Are we talking about the same Klaus here? The one who's been _dead_ for well over a thousand years?"

"Vampires can't impregnate anyone," Jane-Anne offers. "But werewolves can."

"And he's only recently awakened his wolf side, right?" Sophie completes.

"So? He's still dead. If hybrids could get people pregnant, I'm sure there'd be tons of freak babies out there." The image of Tyler walking around with his lady werewolf friend as though they were attached at the hips springs to her mind. The amount of time those two spent shacked up together in the mountains would've been enough for Hayley to get knocked up if there was even a remote possibility of that nonsense being true. Not to mention herself. Recently transformed Tyler had an endless appetite for sex, and they were never careful after he became a vampire, not once.

She slept with Klaus _one time_. How come a one off could impregnate her when a hundred times with her boyfriend couldn't?

"Not hybrids," Sophie says. "Just the original one."

"When Klaus broke the binding curse his mother put on him and awakened his werewolf side, nature created a loophole," Jane-Anne says. "He's the very first of his kind."

Caroline starts laughing, but there's a bit of a nervous quake to it. Unless this is some kind of extremely elaborate joke, they are _very_ serious about it.

"You're both insane," she says. "There's just - _No way_. It's impossible. _I'm not pregnant._ "

Sophie winces as she stands up, and Caroline feels the sting on her own side as the woman crosses the room with purposeful steps, retrieving a brown paper bag from the closet. "Here."

She throws the bag at Caroline, who eyes her suspiciously before checking inside. "Seriously? Pregnancy tests?"

"More than one, different brands. Just to be sure."

"But you don't really need those," Jane-Anne says. That calm, almost motherly tone of her voice is really starting to get to Caroline's nerves. How can she say these absurdities with such a straight face? "We were able to track you down _because_ of your baby. And Sophie here - she can tell when a girl's pregnant."

"Call it a special power."

"Well, then," Caroline says, putting down the bag and sticking her chin out defiantly. "Prove it."

Sophie exchanges a sad look with her sister, her shoulders sagging all of a sudden. "We can't."

"I thought you said you were both witches."

"We are, but... There are rules in New Orleans about practicing magic."

"What kind of rules?"

"It's forbidden."

Caroline frowns. If those two insane women hadn't just told her she's pregnant with an undead man's child, _that_ would've been the weirdest thing she's heard today. The French Quarter covens are famous all across the world. It's old, powerful magic. Witches from all over the place flock to the city just to learn from them, buy their spells and special concoctions. They're _legends_. It makes no sense that it would be _forbidden_ for them do use their magic.

As though reading her thoughts, Jane-Anne says, "Marcel Gerard." For the first time, she sounds anything but soft. Her expression becomes pinched, her lips pursed with distaste. "Calls himself the king of the Crescent City. Has a thing or two against witches. Anyone who dares to disrespect his rules ends up dead. We risked everything to find you and then to bind you to Sophie. Do you really think we'd do that if we weren't absolutely sure?"

Caroline's mouth opens and closes a few times, unable to produce an answer. She doesn't know what to say. Regardless of her suspicious _symptoms_ , it's just impossible that she'd be pregnant considering the only person she's slept with in many months was Klaus. Still, she can't really deny the determination in their claims; there's not a shadow of doubt on either of them. Caroline doesn't know whether to laugh at their insanity or start screaming in panic. If there's even a tiny chance this is true...

"We'll give you a moment so you can take the test and see for yourself," Sophie says. "Bathroom is just behind that door."

"When you're convinced we're not trying to trick you, we'll answer any questions you might have. But we don't have a lot of time. We need to get you out of here, just to be safe that no vampires are gonna come and check for unauthorized magic use."

"And you should eat that," Sophie adds, nodding toward the forgotten tray. "You're feeding two now."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Elijah had always known that, sooner or later, the Mikaelsons would be returning to New Orleans.

Their hasty departure, a hundred years before, was poignant and harrowing. It left a deep mark in all of them — Niklaus more than in anyone else — like very few things have managed to do in a thousand years of existence.

The city meant a lot to them, more than any other place in the world. It was home, and being forced to leave it behind was a loss that was bound to take time to heal. They never had a chance to say goodbye.

Elijah remembers thinking, as Niklaus and Rebekah fled into the night and he stayed behind to slow down their father, unsure whether he'd ever see his siblings again, that if they ever made it out of that, they would come back and stake their claim once more. Mikael would not take that away from them, as he had almost everything else — whenever they dared to get comfortable, to settle down and find a modicum of peace, build something resembling a life, he would come and torch it all to the ground, wiping out entire cities and villages in his mad obsession with murdering his children.

So Elijah knew they'd come back. What he could've never imagined is that what would finally bring them back would be a witch's ploy against Niklaus.

How so very tedious.

Normally, that kind of thing is of no interest whatsoever to him. His brother's misguided ambitions are always making him — and, by extension, his family — some new enemies, desperate to take him down. They all fail. 

It was only a matter of time until Niklaus grew tired of playing around with a flock of adolescents in the middle of Virginia and moved on to greater things. Although, Elijah has to say, it's astounding his brother lasted in Mystic Falls for as long as he did; small towns never grab his attention for long. It doesn't bode well with his restless, volatile spirit. Truth be told, those children gave his brother an honest run for his money. Elijah didn't give them due credit in the beginning, but Elena Gilbert and her merry band of misfits are quite an interesting ensemble.

In any case, after getting caught up with the pointless antics Niklaus involved himself with in Mystic Falls, Elijah thought he was done with his brother's drama for at least another half century. But when he heard Klaus had been summoned to New Orleans, his interest was immediately piqued.

This isn't just some random city in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of deluded hillbillies trying to take down the Original hybrid. It's their home.

What brought Elijah here was, first and foremost, sheer curiosity. He just wanted to know what could the French Quarter witches be possibly cooking up for Klaus, if it had anything to do with the family's long history with the city or if it was something else, something new, and therefore less interesting to him. But the more he chased after the story, the thicker the plot became, and soon it was clear to him that this is no ordinary event. There's something huge going on, and his brother is right at the center of it.

For starters, the discovery that Marcel Gerard not only survived the burning of the city in 1919, but has thrived in the meantime was enough to make Elijah want to dig deeper. The kind of control he exerts over the witches is inexplicable. These are some of the most powerful and ancient covens in all of North America. Elijah can't help but wonder how someone like Marcel, who, as far as he can recall, wasn't particularly gifted despite having been personally tutored by Niklaus himself, managed to wrap the witches around his little finger. He has something they dread, and anything capable of making the French Quarter witches cower in fear is worth paying attention to.

But that's not even the half of it.

Over the course of his life, Elijah has seen countless uprises against Niklaus. His brother has a penchant for provoking the worst in people, and at times that comes back to bite him. Some of those plots have been more efficient and clever than others, although they have all equally failed. But Elijah does not recall ever seeing the kind of _confidence_ that Sophie Deveraux exudes. It's as though she _knows_ , without a shadow of a doubt, that there is absolutely not a chance in the world his brother won't want to do as she says. Her sister was just murdered in cold blood, and yet she acts like that was to be expected. A collateral part of their plan.

That tells Elijah something important: Jane-Anne Deveraux wasn't murdered. She sacrificed herself.

What would make a witch sign her own death sentence so fearlessly like that, is why Elijah has agreed to follow the younger sister, Sophie, to Lafayette Cemetery.

A part of him is wary of what he'll find. Perhaps they have come upon a long lost piece of the white oak and intend to use it against Niklaus. Or perhaps they've come across a loophole in the spell that awakened his werewolf side, a weakness Niklaus isn't aware of and that they will use to get whatever they want from him.

In any case, the woman's reckless detachment has Elijah on alert. No one stands against his brother with that much assurance and lives to tell the story. Elijah aims to find out why she seems to believe she'll be different from all the ones that came before.

In his experience, people with nothing to lose tend to be the most dangerous.

She takes Elijah to a mausoleum, old and spacious, smelling of dust, melted wax and herbs.

"I suggest you start talking," he says. The witches have done nothing but try to stall him since he arrived and he's frankly starting to grow tired of their slippery ways. If they _need_ Niklaus as they say they do, they better not test his patience further. He may not have his brother's famous temper, but he is, after all, still a Mikaelson. "What did your sister want with my brother?"

"Isn't it obvious? You've seen our vampire problem. We need help. Marcel has an army backing him. The witches have been trying to fight back, but we haven’t had much luck — _until_..." a triumphant gap-toothed smile graces her face. "We came across something very interesting. An information, being passed around from elder to elder and coven to coven. As witches, we can tell when there's an imbalance in nature, and we all sensed it. So Jane-Anne decided to take the risk and locate the source of this disturbance. And it led us to a girl in a small town in Virginia."

 _The doppelganger_.

So it must have something to do with the spell that broke the binding curse their mother placed on Niklaus' werewolf nature. Just when he thought they'd finally left their Mystic Falls days behind...

"Unfortunately, I believe I'll be the bearer of bad news. Whatever scheme you have concocted against my brother, the doppelganger is no longer viable. It seems you'll have to wait another couple of generations to get your plan going."

"Who said anything about a doppelganger?"

Elijah frowns. "You are not talking about Elena Gilbert?"

"No. I've never heard of that person before. I'm talking about someone with a deep connection to your brother."

Elijah takes a tentative step closer to Sophie; if she's intimidated, she doesn't let on. Courage won't save her life against an Original, but Elijah can recognize a strong spirit when he sees one. "What kind of connection do you mean?"

"Apparently, they spent some time together. One thing led to another and now the girl, who's a witch, is pregnant. And the father of her child is your brother. Klaus."

He waits for her to say something else, because that can't possibly be the whole story, but when she adds nothing, Elijah feels a stab of annoyance. He cannot believe he's wasted his time over this. "What kind of idiot to you take me for? If this is what the French Quarter witches have been reduced to, then I can perfectly comprehend how Marcellus has managed to so easily dominate you."

Anger flashes across Sophie's eyes, her face hardening. "You think I'm joking?"

"What you claim is simply impossible and I find it honestly embarrassing that you'd even suggest it. I thought you'd have something real to present for your case."

" _Nothing_ is impossible," Sophie hisses. "Especially when it comes to your brother. You should know that by now. Bring her out," she calls out to the people Elijah sensed gathering outside the tomb.

A blond girl enters first, surrounded on all sides by witches of Sophie's group. Elijah recognizes her immediately; not from the one time he believes to have seen her in person, but from all the sketches he saw in Niklaus' studio. Although she looks far grimmer and surlier than he remembers. There's something quite choleric about the way she meets his gaze.

It takes a moment for her name to come back to him. "Caroline Forbes."

Despite his disbelief, Elijah's eyes dip to study her body. She doesn't look pregnant, but sharpening his senses to block out the sounds coming from all the other people in there, he can finally hear it. The second heartbeat inside of her.

So she _is_ with child.

Could it be...?

"Give us a moment, please," Elijah says. The witches exchange a suspicious look, but follow Sophie's lead and exit the tomb, leaving just the two of them. "Now, miss Forbes," he says, taking a seat and motioning for her to join him. "I believe you have a story to tell me."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"You still don't believe me, do you?" Caroline asks after Elijah goes for almost a full minute not saying anything.

Of course he doesn't. Who would? Even she finds it hard to believe it. She's had Sophie Deveraux bring her different pregnancy tests three times in as many days since they've taken her as their _guest_ , as Sophie says, although Caroline would have a different word for it. Every test has been positive, and even some old witchy tricks have confirmed the pregnancy.

If Caroline had been with anyone else but Klaus in the last few months, she wouldn't have a hard time believing it. She has all the signs to go with the positive tests. But when the only person you've slept with is a vampire, it kind of raises different questions. Like how the effing hell is this possible? The witches offer no better explanation than _It's a loophole_ , which doesn't answer anything.

Elijah has every reason to be as skeptical as her, if not more — he's not the one suffering with severe morning sickness, after all. But his cryptical silences and judgmental eyes are starting to get on her nerves, to be perfectly honest. There's only so much a girl pregnant with an Original's baby and held in captivity can take.

"Forgive me," Elijah says. "I don't know what to think."

"Yeah, well. Join the club."

"What do they want? If what they say is true... Then what do they expect to gain from it?"

"For starters, your full cooperation."

"As strange as this predicament is, I'm all ears."

"I think they kind of want you to be all mouth. They need Klaus, not you. I don't know why, but I think it has something to do with this Marcel guy who apparently runs things around here with an iron fist."

Elijah nods, his eyes becoming distant for a heartbeat. "Niklaus and Marcellus go way back. They were once like family. But that was a century ago."

"They haven't shared the details of their plans with me, but I think they aim to use the — _this_ ," Caroline stutters. She still can't get herself to use the word _baby_. She's pregnant. There's a small little child growing inside of her. And it's Klaus’. It's a lot to take in. "To convince Klaus to come and have a chat with them."

Elijah goes quiet again, a new intensity in his gaze. "Are you absolutely sure the baby is his?"

"No, it's just always been my dream to be a part of your beautiful family. What do you think?"

Elijah smiles, his face softening. Everything about his posture has suddenly changed, and she can tell there's a burning new interest stirring in him. It's like he made a decision to believe her, all of a sudden. Believe the witches. And instead of being fazed, he is... Excited?

Caroline's forehead crinkles in confusion. From all the reactions she thought she'd get from the Original family, _this_ was definitely not one of them.

"Fair enough, then," he says, standing to his feet and buttoning up his suit. "It seems my work has been cut out for me."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"We know Marcel was nothing but a street rat until you made him what he is. And now he's out of control. He does what he wants. Kills who he wants."

Elijah watches his brother studiously as Sophie Deveraux recounts the story to why she's summoned the great Klaus Mikaelson back to New Orleans. Elijah was hopeful he'd be in a slightly better mood for this part, but every line of Niklaus' body indicates that his run-in with Marcellus has left him irate, even if he's making an effort to pretend it hasn't affected him. His little brother fancies himself as a bit of a scheming genius, but Elijah can hear the wheels already spinning in his diabolical head. Whatever his reaction to Sophie Deveraux's tale, he is not planning on going anywhere, any time soon. So already they've found some common ground to work on. Pregnant girl or no pregnant girl, they both want the same thing: to dethrone Marcel Gerard.

It's not ideal, Elijah thinks. But it might work in their favor after all.

"I'm gonna stop him. And you're gonna help me," Sophie continues, with the same fiery determination she used on him. This girl really is either very brave, or very stupid. He can't help but admire her disposition.

Niklaus, on the other hand, finds it laughable. "Is this what you brought me here for?" he asks, turning around to face him.

"Hear her out."

"I don't have to hear her out," he snaps. "I assure you, love, there's not a thing on this earth that will matter enough for me to waste even 30 more seconds of my time." Annoyed beyond repair, Klaus looks at him again for explanation. Elijah smiles, exchanges a look with Sophie; it's the cue for Caroline to be escorted into the tomb.

Unlike earlier, this time Caroline has to be dragged in. The witches are holding on to her arms like she's a scared animal, desperate to flee. She looks frightened, the poor girl. Niklaus has that effect on people. But despite not knowing her for long, Elijah thinks it's not exactly his brother she's afraid of here. It's the situation that's making her skittish. The moment Klaus is called into it, she won't be able to escape it anymore. It becomes more real. Her whole life is about to change.

Suddenly, Elijah feels a wave of sympathy for the girl, sorry for the predicament she's found herself in. But it's too late to go back now.

The moment he spots her, a flicker passes across Niklaus' face. For just a split-second, his haughty disregard is replaced by shock, colored with fear. It's exactly what Elijah was aiming to confirm, why he asked the witches to wait before they brought Caroline in. He wanted to see that precious moment when Niklaus would let his guard down. It's brief; a blink later and he's masked it again, but it was there, clear as daylight.

He is not indifferent to this girl.

His anger, however, has been renewed. Now the witches have something to use against him, and if there's one thing Niklaus hates above all else is to be manipulated.

"What is she doing here?" he asks, his voice pitched low and grave.

"Marcel may be able to keep us from practicing real magic here, but as keepers of the balance we still know when nature has cooked up something new. For example, I have a special gift of sensing when a girl is pregnant," Sophie explains.

Klaus' eyes narrow, his lips pursed. "Well, congratulations, love," he says to Caroline, bitterly. "Who's the lucky fella?"

"You are," Sophie replies for her.

Klaus' face snaps back to the witch like thunder. "What?"

"Niklaus," Elijah says, finally approaching his brother. "The girl is carrying your child."

Klaus looks at him in utter disbelief, and then as though he's gone completely mad. He'd expect an absurd like this to come from the witches; they are, after all, trying to get something from him. But the fact Elijah has bought into the story leaves him bewildered.

"You're all mad," he says, laughing. "Do I have to remind you all that vampires cannot procreate?"

"But werewolves can," Sophie says. "Magic made you a vampire but you were born a wolf. You're the original hybrid, the first of your kind, and this pregnancy is one of nature's loopholes."

Klaus turns back to Caroline, a stab of hurt in his eyes. "You've been with someone else."

Caroline's eyes flash with fury. "I've been kidnapped, shackled and held captive in the middle of a freaking swamp. Do you think I like this? That hanging out at cemeteries with creepy witches and your freaking family is my idea of _fun_? I don't want to be here, I don't want any part in any of this. If there was even a tiny chance that someone else could be the father — trust me, that would've been the first thing to come out of my mouth."

"My sister gave her life to perform the spell we needed to confirm this pregnancy," Sophie continues. "Because of Jane-Anne's sacrifice, the lives of this girl and her baby are now controlled by us. If you don't help us take down Marcel, so help me, Caroline won't live long enough to see her first maternity dress."

Now, that wasn't part of the script.

"What?!" Caroline snaps. Apparently she hadn't been informed that her life was being threatened either.

And it proved to be the wrong thing to say, because Niklaus is on Sophie's neck before Elijah has a chance to interfere. He smashes her skull against the wall, choking her with just one hand. As soon as he launches at Sophie, Caroline screams, falling to the ground, clawing at her throat as though she can't breathe, her eyes wide in horror.

"Niklaus!" Elijah bellows.

"If you kill Sophie, she dies!" one of the witches say, crouching down next to Caroline.

"What have you done?" his brother hisses dangerously, slouching his hold but not letting go of Sophie's throat.

"They're linked," the same witch continues. "Everything that happens to one, happens to the other."

After another second of hesitation, he finally drops Sophie. The witch slides all the way to the floor, taking gulping breaths, while Caroline tries to stand up, dark bruises on her skin where his brother touched the other witch. Elijah takes her arm and helps her to her feet.

This is going to be far more dangerous than he'd anticipated.

"Why?" he asks the witch who'd been helping Caroline. "Why link them?"

"Because we need to make sure that you won't harm Sophie."

"I could still harm you," Klaus seethes.

"I'm not important."

He's _enraged_ , his brother, and he wants to see blood. Not only did they take a girl he's apparently fond of to use on their plot, but they've forced his hand.

The witches are smart, Elijah will give them that. But they don't know who they're dealing with.

"Enough of this," Elijah says. "If you want Marcel dead, he's dead. I'll kill him myself."

"No," Sophie says. "We can't. Not yet. We have a clear plan that we need to follow and there are rules."

"How dare you command me? Threaten me with what you wrongly perceive to be my weakness," Klaus says through gritted teeth. "I won't hear any more lies!"

"Niklaus," Elijah says in a tone that commands his brother to pay attention. "Listen."

He nods his head toward the girl and Klaus' gaze follows. There's a moment's pause, then his expression shifts, and Elijah knows he can hear it, too. The baby's heartbeat. His baby. The darkness in his eyes dissipates when he looks back up at Caroline, and for a spell Elijah thinks they've won him. But then Klaus turns back to him with a hard shield in his eyes, quenching that tiny pint of hope.

"Kill her and the baby. What do I care?" he says, before storming off.

 

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_Kill her and the baby. What do I care?_

Klaus' partying words hit Caroline like a punch to the gut.

She's unable to even react as he blows by her without even so much as blinking her way before disappearing from sight.

She doesn't know what she was expecting from him, what she even _wanted_ him to do, but this... This is harsh. And cruel. And very much like Klaus, which tells her that it is _exactly_ what she should've been prepared to hear.

Sophie is trying to use him to take down Marcel and liberate the witches of the French Quarter, and she thought a magical baby was going to be the answer to all her prayers. Why would a _child_ soften Klaus' stone-cold heart? Why would Caroline?

She didn't think he'd bow down to a witch's will and do whatever she asked of him, but she also didn't think he'd straight out tell them to take her out. She'd come to believe that he had certain feelings for her — if not love, then at least a kind of affection. An appreciation. That she meant something out of the ordinary. What was is that he'd said to her, when he allowed Tyler a headstart only to never actually go after him? _I've shown mercy. Kindness. Forgiveness. For you, Caroline. It was all for you._

And now here he is, telling witches that he couldn't care less about what happens to her.

Typical. Klaus doesn't care about anyone but himself. Caroline had known that since the day he set foot in Mystic Falls, but she allowed herself to forget it for just a moment, enough to forgive him for all the terrible things he did and give in to desires she had unsuccessfully tried to repress for months. Serves her right for believing him and betraying everyone's trust by sleeping with the enemy.

Sophie seems absolutely horrified, like she hadn't expected things to come to that; even Elijah is shocked. Are they really this naive?

"I told you," Caroline says. "Your sister died for nothing."

Sophie's face crumples like she's about to cry. It's a weird look on her, always so strong and determined. Caroline almost feels sorry for the other woman. _Almost_.

"Don't do anything," Elijah says. "I'll speak to my brother. If anything happens to the girl, I guarantee there won't be a single witch left in New Orleans by the end of the day."

Elijah's perseverance would be touching if Caroline wasn't so absolutely depleted of hope.

"I suppose it's too much optimism on my part to expect you to let me go back home now that you have your answer, isn't it?"

"I haven't given up yet. You're carrying a miracle baby, it _has_ to have a purpose."

"I'm sorry — did any of that look miraculous to you? You had no idea who you were dealing with when you came up with your stupid plan. Anyone who's spent five minutes in Klaus' company could tell you it wouldn't work. He's not gonna be played by you, and the more you try, the worse he'll get. He's made it pretty clear that my safety is of no concern to him, so I'd be worried if I were you. He won't hesitate to slaughter you and all your coven if you cross him."

"I don't care what happens to me. My sister is dead. I've got nothing to lose. For your sake, let's hope his brother can talk some sense into him."

Caroline lets out a bitter laugh. "Here's another bit of Mikaelson history to you. His brother has been trying — and failing — to talk sense into him for, I don't know, a _thousand years_? Give or take. But sure. Let's stay positive."

 

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That Niklaus would prove, as always, to be difficult, Elijah had anticipated. Being reasonable in the face of extraordinary circumstances has never been amid his brother's greatest qualities and now that he's finally awakened his werewolf side, it's become more challenging than ever to persuade cooperation out of him. But Elijah could not have imagined that it would get as bad as it did. Niklaus has gone completely off rail.

The reunion with Marcellus left him rattled, and then with the revelation about the child... He just snapped. Went back to the compound, their former home, and gifted Marcel's right-hand man with a bite for no reason other than because he could. A show of strength, to advertise his new tricks. He was looking for a vicious fight, hoping that Marcel would chase after him so he could spill some blood and dampen some of the turmoil inside. Then he disappeared.

Openly antagonizing Marcel like this goes against everything Elijah had planned and makes life unnecessarily harder for everyone, including the poor girl pregnant with his child, currently being held hostage by desperate witches.

But not all is lost. There might yet be a way to reverse some of the damage caused by his brother's violent impulsiveness. Elijah just needs to find him first.

He's certain Niklaus is somewhere in the French Quarter, reacquainting himself with the city they left behind a hundred years ago, reminiscing of old times when happiness had felt so close they could almost taste it. But he's been going around for over an hour now and still no sign of him.

So Elijah does the only thing he can think of when he starts to run out of ideas and calls the one person who knows his brother better than himself.

Rebekah refused to join him in New Orleans, even after he told her about Marcel and the miracle child. She's still testy about the cure and Elijah can't exactly blame her. Niklaus was his usual hateful and selfish self when it comes to their sister, denying her the freedom to make her own choices and have a life of her own. She would rather relish the rare gift of a moment away from her brothers, all by herself in Mystic Falls. Still, she's family, and as such, she should be aware of everything that happens in New Orleans. That child is her blood, too.

"He went into Marcel's den and attacked his right-hand man, right there, in front of everyone," he tells her as he makes his way to Jackson Square. "The man is dying now. He's willing to give up everything."

"Come on, Elijah. Does that really surprise you?" his sister asks, not at all fazed. The sound of water on the other end of the line indicates that she's probably relaxing in the bathtub as they speak. Elijah almost resents her for being so calm and unperturbed when they're about to lose the most precious opportunity their family has come upon in over a thousand years.

"He's spiraling, Rebekah. Lashing out in blind rage. You know, the last time I saw him like this, it lasted 200 years. I was certain the girl would be able to persuade him. Did you not tell me he'd taken a liking to her?"

"He had an ungodly obsession with her. But you know our brother. The second something loses its novelty to him, he gets bored."

"I'm not entirely sure how else to convince him."

"Well, perhaps she _is_ the whole reason he's having this temper tantrum. Nik does nothing but blackmail whatever he wants out of people, but he cannot _stand it_ when his tricks are used against him, especially when it works. Just... Leave him be. Come home, Elijah. With any luck this misadventure will allow us a reprieve from all his insanity. We can actually enjoy each other for a bit before he comes thrashing through our lives again."

"It was _so_ close," Elijah continues, barely listening to his sister's heartfelt plea. He wants nothing more than to have his family back together, but that includes Niklaus and, now, the baby as well. And regardless of that, he never had any intention whatsoever to go back to Mystic Falls, not now, not ever. Rebekah must understand that. "When he heard the baby's heartbeats, I could see it in his eyes. He knew it was his, and for just a second there I know he had imagined himself wanting it. And now his temper has destroyed everything. Even if I could return him to sanity, he's lost Marcel's trust. And the girl's. I'm not sure which is worse. And I'm almost out of time to get her."

"Get her? Have you lost your mind? Are you running an orphanage now?"

"Say what you will about Niklaus, Rebekah, but on my life, I'm not letting anything happen to that child." He senses the protest rising to his sister's lips on the other end, and before she can launch into yet another rant, he says, "I must go now. I'll let you know if anything else happens. Goodbye, sister," and hangs up.

 

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New Orleans remains just as beautiful as he remembered.

A lot has changed, even in the French Quarter, with its magnificent historical buildings, most of which Klaus has seen being raised from the ground. But New Orleans has never been about appearances; the city has a feeling to it. It's alive with energy and colors, food and music. It's such a unique place, unlike any other he's ever been to, with a personality all of its own and a supernatural twist to go with it. That has remained absolutely untouched in the 100 years since he'd last been here. Not even Mikael's hellish wrath could break this city.

It's funny how time passes by when you live through it with the perspective of immortality. One hundred years feels like just yesterday. Or maybe that's because he had every tiny moment of his life in New Orleans committed to memory, revisiting it every time he closed his eyes for years after he and his family were forced to flee, leaving a trail of blood and ashes in their wake.

New Orleans had been their home once; when Mikael came for them, he turned it into a graveyard. Everything they worked so hard to build, all the people they'd grown attached to — gone in the blink of an eye. If there was any shred of humanity left in Klaus, it was buried by his father that night at the Opera House, when he murdered his allies — his _friends_ — and set fire to his dreams.

And Marcellus...

Klaus was crushed by his death. For years, he couldn't even pronounce his name, couldn't see anybody on the street who vaguely resembled his adoptive son without losing his mind. He was overwhelmed with guilt, destroyed by grief. And all this time, Marcel had not only been alive, but he'd been _thriving_.

He and Rebekah got separated from Elijah and were forced to lay low for a while to shake Mikael off their trail, but Marcel could've found them, if he'd really wanted. He could've put a word out, could've sent a message through one of the emissaries Klaus sent back to the French Quarter to collect whatever belongings his father hadn't destroyed. Instead, Marcel chose to turn Klaus' personal tragedy, perhaps the greatest in his immortal life, into an opportunity and _steal_ from him. Take his city, his empire, and make it his own. And now he dares to call himself king.

Klaus is no strange to betrayal, but few have cut as deep as Marcel's. He taught him everything, loved him like a son. Marcel was family, and he used the most terrible and painful moment in his 1000 years of existence to usurp from Klaus.

He thought that was the reason the witches had called him back to New Orleans. That they'd found out about his long lost relationship with Marcel and were going to bet on his anger to help them return to power.

It probably would've worked, truth be told.

Not because Klaus had any interest whatsoever in empowering a bunch of witches; he's never been entirely popular with them and knows well enough what a pain in the arse an upset coven can be. But having them as allies in his quest to recover his kingdom wouldn't have been unwelcome. They could've found a common ground to work on, even struck a deal similar to the one he had back in the early 1900s, when he'd turned New Orleans into a haven for peaceful coexistence between all the factions. It was the only time ever that Klaus agreed to play the politics game instead of going straight for the show of strength and it was surprisingly profitable.

But that wasn't what the witches had in mind at all, was it?

When he saw they'd taken Caroline, the first thing through Klaus' mind was to rip their throats open, every last one of them. He didn't even care that there'd be consequences or that he needed them to take down Marcel and his army of nightwalkers. They'd dared to go all the way to Virginia just to kidnap a girl to use as leverage against him. They deserved to be taught a lesson for their audacity alone, but the fact it actually _worked_ in upsetting him just made it all worse.

Good thing he didn't go for the throat slashing, or Caroline would be dead now, and Klaus would have the entire city slaughtered for daring to hurt her.

But that... _thing_... That tiny heartbeat inside of her... That changed everything.

Klaus doesn't know what to think. It's impossible. No immortal creature before has ever been capable of fathering children. But then there is this tiny voice in his head reminding him that there had never been a hybrid such as himself before either, and Caroline was the first mortal girl he bedded since his transformation. _Nature's loophole_. Whatever the bloody hell that means? His mother crafted the perfect spell when she bound his wolf side. She was an ingenious witch, wouldn't have left an opening for such a thing. Unless she'd been counting on it, somehow. But why? Why would she ever want her bastard son to have children?

None of it makes any sense. Klaus wouldn't have believed a word of what those witches said, but he doesn't think Caroline would lie to him. Unless those wenches had her compelled somehow, used some dark magic to make her say whatever they wanted. But what of Elijah? His noble, righteous brother wouldn't have bought into this insanity unless he was absolutely certain.

Caroline, pregnant with his child.

Just thinking about it makes him see red.

He never wanted to have children. Unlike Rebekah and Finn, and even Elijah at times, Klaus has not once resented his immortality. The fact he could walk through eternal life without ever fearing the possibility of descendants was a blessing. He's had enough family drama to last him a thousand lifetimes. Marcellus was a happenstance, one of those odd coincidences that would never come around again. Klaus wasn't a good father to him, and would be an even worse one to a child of his own. A child he doesn't want. A child he couldn't care less about.

Those witches thought they were going to manipulate him with his alleged unborn child; little did they know that it's really Caroline he's most concerned with. If it had been any other girl there, Klaus wouldn't bemoan walking away from it. The witches would be doing him a favor to kill the mother and the child. But it's not just any girl, one of the many nameless one night stands whose faces he can hardly remember; it's Caroline Forbes. He even felt a stab of jealousy when they revealed she was with child; the revelation it was his, however, brought him no joy.

For a moment there, it all became too much for him to bear. Klaus snapped, told the witches to kill her hoping they'd realize Caroline was useless to them and let her go unharmed, and went to find an outlet for his anger. Marcel's lapdog, Thierry, was a fine candidate. It should've made him feel better, vindicated at least, but it didn't. Klaus is just as vexed and tormented as before, only now with the added weight of having royally ruined everything. He lost his chance to gain Marcel's trust in order to figure out how he controls the witches and bring him down and, as a consequence, he's put Caroline's life in danger by acting so recklessly.

He's contemplating how to punish that Deveraux witch without injuring Caroline in the process when his brother finally finds him. He knew Elijah would show up at some point, had probably been chasing him all around the city for hours. Still, he's no less surly for it.

"Here to give me another pep talk on the joys of fatherhood?"

"I've said all I needed to say." Elijah takes a seat next to him on the bench. "The witches still have Caroline. Whatever feelings you might have about your child, Niklaus, I know you care about that girl and your heartless dismissal has put her in grave danger."

He feels it again, that pang of guilt. "They'll gain nothing from me by hurting her."

"Is that what you wanted them to think?" So annoying, his big brother, always reading right through his actions. Klaus was never able to keep a secret from him for too long. He spent very little time in Mystic Falls to be aware of the extent of his affections for Caroline, but apparently Klaus hadn't been as convincing at his attempt at nonchalance as he'd imagined. "Tell me, brother," Elijah continues, softer now. "What's on your mind?"

Klaus considers the question for a moment before deciding to be earnest, for once. "For a thousand years I lived in fear," he starts. "Any time I settled anywhere, our father would hunt me down and chase me off. He made me feel powerless, and I hated it. This town was my home once, and in my absence Marcel has got everything that I ever wanted. Power. Loyalty. Family. I made him in my image and he has bettered me. I want what he has. I want to be king."

"Is that all that child means to you? A grab for power?"

_Yes. No. I don't know._

"What does it mean to you?" he asks, turning to face his brother. Elijah's ardent interest in his child is puzzling. He looked almost taken with emotion as he told him Caroline was expecting his child at the cemetery, acted all protective of her.

Elijah' lips curl into a soft smile. "I think this child could offer you the one thing you've never believed you could have."

"And what's that?"

"Unconditional love."

Klaus feels a lump in his throat at that word. _Love_.

He doesn't think there's a single vein in his body cut out for fatherhood. Violence and abuse is all he knows of it. But he also didn't think he was still capable of feeling anything beyond wanton desire for anyone until Caroline came along. She lit up a flame in a long forgotten chamber in his heart, a part of him he didn't even think existed anymore.

He thought it was the challenge, and that he'd be over her the second he had her. One night should've been more than enough to wash her off his skin for good, so that he'd stop feeling this pathetic need to please her. But he was wrong. All that night did was make him want her more. One taste of Caroline wasn't enough to placate his desire — but it was enough to leave her pregnant.

For someone like him, love is the most dangerous thing. It's a weakness. A vulnerability. Caroline has just proved that; the mere fact of his affection for her have turned her into a weapon to be used against him. And a quite effective one. But the thing about love is that it robs you of all your sanity. At the same time it punishes and causes torturing pain, it makes you want to protect it rather than quench it, makes you crave more.

As long as Caroline carries his child, she'll have a target on her back. If these witches have found a way to get to her, then others could as well. Klaus' list of enemies is long and endless. Caroline will never be safe. However convoluted his feelings about fatherhood may be, he knows he ought to protect her. And the only way to do it is to keep her by his side.

 _Family is power_ , Elijah always says. He doesn't know that he agrees with that. His family, for one, has meant more pain and agony over the centuries than anything else. But he can't help but wonder... If he can take back his city, his crown, make this a safe haven for Caroline and her child... What then?

What if there is such thing as an _unconditional love_ after all?

"I'm asking you to stay here, Niklaus," his brother presses on. "I will help you and I will stand by you; I will be your brother. We will build a home here, together, as we did once. So save this girl. Save your child. Save your family, Niklaus."

After a long bout of silence, Klaus finally meets his brother's hopeful gaze. "Tell Sophie Deveraux we have a deal."

 

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Circumstances are far from ideal, but beggars can't be choosers.

It's not a situation Elijah normally finds himself in - having to dance to someone else's music, work with what he's given instead of being the one to call the shots. It's quite uncomfortable, truth be told. As an Original vampire, his nature is that of a predator, not a prey. But this is no ordinary situation. It requires a certain level of finesse and subtlety he's not used to concerning himself with. When you're nearly indestructible, why bother with nuance at all when it comes to your enemies? Well, not the case anymore.

Not just one, but two mortal lives hang on his next steps, and for that reason he has to be more cunning and assured than ever.

A hard reality to live with, for certain, but not impossible. With time, he'll be able to turn things around and regain control. It's always been this way.

But first things first.

After convincing Niklaus to shake on a deal with the witches, Elijah had to take care of the more immediate matters, like figuring out where they'd be setting up residence, and the only thing he and his brother have managed to agree on so far is that the French Quarter is absolutely out of question. Hiding in plain sight, in this case, is not a clever strategy for one obvious reason: Caroline.

It would be hard for Marcel not to notice the charming young lady living with them, and the second he finds out she's pregnant with Klaus' child, she becomes a target.

They want to keep it as a secret as much as possible, for as long as they can. The less people know, the safer Caroline and the child will be. The fact she's a witch doesn't play in her favor either. Marcel is not just openly averse to them, he's issued a complete ban on magic in all of New Orleans and has proved not to be shy about brutally executing anyone who dares to disobey him. She won't even be able to use her own powers to defend herself, at risk of being found out and tracked down by Marcel and his nightwalkers.

The secret weapon which allows Marcel to control the witches has become Niklaus' obsession, and as much as Elijah wishes his brother would dedicate some of his attention to the woman carrying his offspring, he cannot deny that it is of utmost importance that they figure out how exactly Marcel can detect whenever magic is being used. Their entire game plan to oust Marcellus, thus delivering on their end of the bargain with the witches and liberating Caroline from the magical link that has her at their mercy, depends on it.

While Elijah took care of locating an appropriate home and the bureaucracy involved in guaranteeing its occupation would go absolutely unnoticed, Caroline stayed for another night with the witches at their safe house whilst Niklaus simply disappeared. He said he had to take care of relocating from Mystic Falls to New Orleans, but Elijah is well acquainted with every single one of his little brother's not-so-subtle avoidance techniques. He even refused to go back to the cemetery to speak directly with Sophie Deveraux, leaving it to Elijah to deliver the message. Caroline didn't seem very upset not to see him, so perhaps Niklaus knew exactly what he was doing. It's going to take him some time to win the girl's trust again, after that pathetic show of contempt. She's fuming still, and not without reason.

One would think that a thousand years would be more than sufficient for Niklaus to learn some basic human tact. One would be wrong.

Niklaus' absence means that Elijah has been the one to keep Caroline company. She's still very much on the defensive, as expected, a calculation in her eyes before she answers any questions. She does have many doubts of her own, however, which Elijah has clarified to the best of his abilities. About New Orleans' history; how the very delicate balance between vampires, werewolves, witches and the human factions have been shaken to its core in the 100 years since they left; about how they basically built the city from the ground, having arrived only a few years after it was officially founded by the French; about how they came to love it like a true home.

The more he spoke, the more willing to listen Caroline was, and the more open she became. While his brother broods and wallows in self-pity, Elijah has taken it upon himself to show Caroline that she _can_ trust them. If not Niklaus, not yet, then at least him. Whatever his brother's intentions, he will keep his word and do whatever it takes to assure her and her child will be cared for and protected. She's part of their family now. They need to make her feel welcome; if they lose her, they lose the baby, and Elijah won't have it.

Caroline hasn't been sharing much of her own side of the story. She is so infuriated with his brother she doesn't even want to talk of how they came to be together.

Elijah was curious; last he heard about it, every single inhabitant of Mystic Falls abhorred his family, and rightly so, considering the kind of turmoil that was brought upon them when Niklaus unapologetically marched into their lives. His brother may be many things, but he wouldn't force himself onto a woman, especially not one who despises him; he doesn't have to. It is beyond Elijah, but some people take obvious character deviations for charm, it seems. He hasn't known Caroline Forbes for long, but he's always been an excellent judge of character, and he's quite certain she doesn't fall into that category, which means Niklaus must have done something right. It's most puzzling, indeed.

What he has been able to tell about her in the little time they've spent together so far is that she is, in fact, a fascinating young woman. He hadn't thought much of her after their brief encounter at his mother's ball. There were far more important matters at stake for him to pay attention to what he deemed to be yet another pretty face on his brother's long list of conquests.

Elijah couldn't have been more mistaken about Miss Forbes.

She's sharp-minded and always observant, hanging onto his every word, always attentive to when he intentionally skips a detail or leaves a hole in his tales, making the right and at times uncomfortable questions. She's resilient and strong-willed, and not even her tricky and volatile situation has managed to quench her spirit. Every moment in her company is like a test which Elijah is eager to pass, and every time she opens up about herself, every time she lets her guard down and becomes comfortable in his company, allowing herself a moment of respite, he feels rewarded.

There's a light to this girl, not unlike what he'd seen in Elena Gilbert, the type that not all the darkness and tragedy in the world could suppress. But unlike Miss Gilbert, Caroline's seems to come from a place of strength and self-sufficiency, not abnegation and blind faith. Her smiles seem to brighten her whole face, and Elijah finds himself captivated by it, trying to make her smile. He can suddenly understand why his brother was so drawn to her — and all the more confused by the fact she has, somehow, been drawn to him too. They seem like such extreme opposites; Caroline is effusive and bright while Niklaus is... Well, Niklaus.

One thing they do seem to have in common, though, is how restless they both are. The second Elijah chose the perfect place for them to move in — an old plantation house that had been abandoned for decades with some of its old furniture still intact — she made it her mission to make that place livable. He could tell that she hated it, having to be there, but she understood the need for her to stick with them without anyone ever having to tell her. So if she was going to stay, she wanted to make sure the place would be as comfortable as possible. Elijah had no qualms with it; he took her on a tour of all the rooms, letting her pick the one she wanted for herself and paying attention to whatever little indication she gave of what she'd like to see in the house.

When they finally move in, her bedroom is the only one that has been previously cleaned and completely arranged to her liking. The girl has enough problems in her life; her new home doesn't have to be one as well.

As the compelled help carries their things inside, some new purchases, some old stuff, but mostly things that Niklaus has had shipped over from Mystic Falls, Caroline is removing the sheets and inspecting the furniture that was left behind. It's all very old, for sure, but very elegant, in perfect condition and clearly worth a small fortune.

Elijah's investigations indicated that Marcel Gerard personally guaranteed that the family that used to own the plantation—- his own biological family — was either dead or scared away for good. Rightfully so, mind you. Elijah would've probably murdered the lot of them in cold blood if they'd done to him what they did to Marcellus. Ever since the place was emptied, however, it has remained uninhabited, and no one's ever returned to reclaim any of the belongings.

It's secluded and far enough away from the Quarter that they'll hardly be seeing vampires around the area. The witches guaranteed no one's visited the property in years, not even the wolves that have occupied the Bayou since they were banned from the city.

It's not _perfect_ , it's not _home_ , but it'll have to do. For now, at least.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Caroline's eyes burn as centuries-old dust lifts from the sheets and the furniture in the house. Her allergies are going to kill her faster than those witches.

She doesn't know what to think of the place. It would probably be more accurate to say she doesn't know what to think of a lot of things, like Elijah's tireless disposition to please her, or how concerned he seems to be about whether she approves of the house or not. But thinking about the big picture gives her a headache, so, instead, she focuses on the things she can control. The small ones. Like the house that is apparently going to be her home for the next seven or so months ( _at least_ ) until they can figure out what to do...

Or until she can come up with a convincing enough argument for them to let her go back home with a newborn baby. It's gonna be a pain in the ass explaining everything to her mom — who has been calling her nonstop since she disappeared and is at her wits end; any time now sheriff Forbes is going to realize her daughter's excuses do not add up and send a search party to Louisiana. The mess this is going to be...

This is something she is yet to discuss with Elijah. Caroline has a few ideas, but she doubts he'll like any of them — especially because they mostly involve her going back to Mystic Falls for a bit. The witches will go out of their minds crazy, but she's sure they can find some understanding.

Desperate though she may be, Sophie Deveraux doesn't seem to be completely without reason and she will agree that having a third party entering their _situation_ when the Mystic Falls gang decides to come after her is not in anyone's best interests.

Caroline doesn't want to be rescued. For several reasons, in fact, but mostly because she _really_ doesn't want to have to explain to her friends that she's pregnant with Klaus' baby. Not until she can come to terms with it herself, which - it's coming along harder than she thought it would.

Elijah says he can hear the baby's heartbeat, but Caroline isn't showing yet. It's been exactly seven and a half weeks since she made that terrible mistake with Klaus — and five and a half weeks since they almost made a mistake for the second time — which is too soon even for an ultrasound to detect a heartbeat, but not for vampires, it seems.

To the average person, there are no signs whatsoever that there's a _thing_ growing inside of her, and Caroline catches herself more often than not wishing that this has all been a big mistake, that there's no magical miracle baby at all. Every time she tries to think of herself with a swollen tum, buying maternity dresses and picking color patterns for a baby room with Klaus, it just... Becomes too much.

That's when she brings her focus back to the small picture. The house. The furniture. The lovely morning light coming in through the window of the master bedroom Elijah allowed her to take for herself. And, right now, the amount of cleaning they'll need to do in order to get this place in shape.

"Are you ok?" Elijah asks as he joins her in the room.

"Yeah," she says. "It's just the dust. This place has been closed for centuries."

He smiles, giving the room a satisfied once-over. He spent days diligently searching for a place, even sending her some photos to ask for her opinion. It would be almost sweet of him if this whole thing wasn't so freaky. He's an Original, for God's sake. His efforts felt so genuine, though, that she didn't have it in her to say she didn't care because whatever place he picked would never feel like home to her.

"Almost," he says. "But it should serve our purposes."

"A plantation, really? Should I add slave owners to the Mikaelsons' endless list of horrible deeds?"

"It was not ours. Our home was — _is_ — in the heart of New Orleans, and inconveniently taken by an infestation of riffraffs at the moment. For now, this place is a sanctuary from our business in the Quarter. You, Caroline, are the most important person in this family right now. You need a good home, some place quiet and peaceful." He says the last part looking her straight in the eyes, not a hint of condescension in him.

If she didn't know better, she'd never believe Klaus and Elijah are related. They couldn't be any more different.

Then again, she's met Stefan and Damon. Maybe it's a vampire thing.

"Why are you so dedicated to this?" she asks, unable to hold her doubt back any longer. "You procured Jane-Anne's body from Marcel just so the witches could consacrate her. That can't have been easy."

"No. But for once my brother's temper served a good purpose. I used his spectacular tantrum to force Marcel to agree to return Jane-Anne's body to her sister in exchange for a few drops of his blood, enough to heal Marcel's man. He had no choice but to agree."

"And you sat down to negotiate with this guy just so they wouldn't do anything to me?"

"Your child is my family too, Caroline. We have roamed this earth for a thousand years and so far our legacy is... Dark. Niklaus', in special. I had almost convinced myself that there was no hope left for him. For _us_. And that — losing hope — is the worst thing that can possibly happen to someone like me. Your baby offers us a new chance. We can finally do this right. Have a legacy that is born out of goodness and love. _Family_. Not drenched in centuries of resentment and rage."

The hopeful glint in his eyes tells Caroline Elijah very much believes his cause to be a noble one. If she tries hard enough, she can sort of see his point. But she can't help but be a little terrified, too.

"You can't expect an unborn baby to fix all the terrible things you've done over the inhumanly long course of your lives. That's too much responsibility for such a tiny thing. It's a child, Elijah, not a time machine. You don't get a do over just because a baby is born."

Elijah smiles wanly at her, nodding. "You're absolutely right. It is a huge burden to carry. Forgive me."

Caroline shakes her head. "It's ok. At least you have good intentions - unlike some other people in your family."

"I'm curious, Caroline... In the middle of all this, has anyone asked how you feel?"

"You mean about having a miracle baby with someone I slept with once?"

"About being a mother."

And... Well, fuck.

While everyone seemed to be very concerned with Klaus' feelings over being a daddy, no one ever asked her about her own feelings over becoming a mother. They all just apparently believed it was something she would embrace with all her heart, out of some inherent instinct. Hell, not even Caroline stopped to wonder about that herself. The baby's origin, the witches, leaving Mystic Falls, Marcel, Elijah, the Original family... Everything just felt so much bigger that it left her with very little space for pondering over anything else.

But the bottom line of all this is... She's going to be a mother. In roughly seven months, she'll have a tiny baby. Who the father is won't matter so much anymore, because it'll be her child regardless. And what the hell is she supposed to do then?

The blow suddenly lands.

She was head of three different graduation committees, had acceptance letters from four different Ivy League universities, top of her class and chosen valedictorian. She was voted most likely to succeed _and_ to become famous after high school. Future seemed so bright. Caroline Forbes was going places. Now look at her.

She's _that_ girl. The high school cautionary tale. Pregnant, father doesn't want to have anything to do with it, all her plans put on hold.

Whatever she was going to do with the rest of her life, it'll have to wait because, first, she's going to be a mother.

_Holy shit._

"I don't think I'm ready for it," she blurts out. "I've always wanted to have children, but... Not like this. And not for many, _many_ years. I don't know if I can do this right. It's just... So crazy. How do I even begin to think about bringing a baby into all this? An _actual_ baby. It's only existed for a few weeks and already it's in grave danger. What kind of mother am I supposed to be? How am I supposed to protect it?"

Elijah puts his hands on her shoulders, perhaps sensing the panic that threatens to overtake her all of a sudden, and forces her to look him in the eye. "I will protect you," he says, slowly. "I will _always_ protect you. Both of you. You have my word."

"And noble Elijah always keeps his word."

The second Caroline hears Klaus' voice, something inside of her goes off. Her moment of vulnerability dissipates and she's filled with blind _anger_.

He's gone missing for days, didn't show his face _once_ , not even to apologize, which was the least he could've done, and now he just saunters into the room like he's not half to blame for this whole freaky mess. Like he doesn't _owe_ her any goddamn thing.

Elijah immediately pulls his hands away and takes a step back from her, and Caroline realizes he's done it because of the _look_ Klaus is giving them. Like they've been conspiring behind his back, betraying him somehow. The _nerve_ of that bastard.

"Is it done?" the oldest Mikaelson asks, all business-like.

"Yes. I've successfully carved my way back into Marcel's good graces by healing his man. I remain a welcome guest at the French Quarter," Klaus announces, sounding actually proud of himself. Like his only responsibility for the last so many days had been to plot his way back into Marcel's inner group.

It's probably her own fault, though, for expecting so much from someone who'd never really given anything other than false promises. She should've known better than to trust an Original. And if she's learned anything from all this, she'll keep a foot back with Elijah as well.

"My only concern now is this coven of impudent witches," Klaus continues.

"I believe them to be honorable."

"Honorable? They threatened to kill a pregnant girl in cold blood."

Caroline scoffs loudly, all eyes turning to her. "I'm sorry — was that serious? You _told_ them to kill me. What was it that you said? Oh, yes. _What do I care?_."

"I was trying to protect you," Klaus retorts, measured words through gritted teeth.

Caroline takes a step closer, staring him down with fire burning in her eyes, so mad it's all she can do not to use her magic to give him a splitting headache for the ages. "The only person you were trying to protect was yourself."

The tension in the room becomes so thick one could slice it with a knife. The quietness roars in her ears, and for a moment it seems like Klaus is holding back — from saying something, or doing something, maybe ripping out her throat right there and ending this whole nonsense once and for all with his bare hands. She wouldn't put it past him, but she finds that the thought brings a weird tang to her mouth.

All this _emotion_ she's been overflowing with — she doesn't know if she can already blame it on hormones at such an early stage, but she can sure as hell blame it on herself. Caroline is _hurt_ , mad furious with revenge because Klaus' words and actions touched right on the raw. And it did so because she let him in.

Before he gets a chance to react or make up another lame ass excuse about how he had her best interests at heart when he asked for those crazed witches to finish her or simply state the truth, that he couldn't care less about what happens to her and has only bought into this because his brother insisted, she decides she doesn't want to stick around to find out which it'll be.

"Elijah," she says, turning back to the stunned older brother. "It would be really nice if someone could get me a few thousand bottles of cleaning products and a good pair of gloves. I do stress cleaning when I'm pissed off and it seems like I'll be doing it a lot while I'm here. Thanks."

With that, Caroline stalks away up the stairs, slamming the door behind her as she reaches her bedroom.

How the hell is she supposed to survive in this place for the next seven months?


	2. S01E02 House of the Rising Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small note on some liberties I've taken with the story. There are times in the TVD-verse where vampires and werewolves can identify a vampire/werewolf right away, and then sometimes they can't. Well, I just decided that they always can and that this is part of their natures as natural enemies. Wolves and vamps can _sense_ each other. Neither can sense a witch right away (except if they are really old and therefore much more experienced/powerful) because witches are nature's keepers and nature doesn't want to screw with them. I'm not sure if this is a thing. If it is, great! But if it isn't, it is now. 
> 
> Thank you so much to [coveredinthecolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/pseuds/coveredinthecolors) for helping me make this chapter better and giving me her honest opinions and commentary and also for listening to me whining about my fanfiction and not telling me to shut up. 
> 
> As always, I ask that you have in mind that English is not my first language. Sorry for any mistakes you might find. All my warnings from chapter 1 still stand. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

Life at the plantation house is calm. Almost too calm.

Elijah wasn't exaggerating when he said he'd found a place where Caroline would have peace and quiet. The only problem might be that peace and quiet is _all_ she has.

After highly stressful days at the hands of the witches and the emotional distress and uncertainty that followed Klaus' arrival, the quietness is a welcome reprieve from all the madness. She appreciated the space she was given. But having nothing to do and no one to talk to in the middle of freaking nowhere, considering her very unique situation, gets old pretty fast.

Turns out - who would’ve guessed? -, _too much_ peace and quiet can be just as trying as being held captive by a bunch of crazy witches.

In fact — a week into her retreat and Caroline almost misses Sophie Deveraux. At least she gave Caroline something to focus on other than morning sickness and the complete downfall of her life.

The worst part, however, is Elijah.

Caroline bought his whole grand speech about honor and family. She believed him when he said he was going to be there for her. She was in such a vulnerable place, so confused and lost, that Elijah's excitement and hopefulness felt like a light at the end of the tunnel, and she held on to it without taking under consideration the very fundamental fact that he is still a Mikaelson and, as such, selfishness and betrayal are in his DNA.

Not a day after they moved in, Elijah simply disappeared. No notes, no phone calls, no nothing. Just vanished out of thin air, like he’d never promised to stick around. _I will always protect you. Both of you. You have my word._

Yeah, right. Some word.

And like Caroline doesn't already have enough reason to be grumpy all the time, with Elijah gone, Klaus becomes her only company, however sporadic.

She never knows when she's going to see him. Sometimes he's there when she wakes up, skulking about the house; sometimes he's already gone when she gets up. Most days she doesn't even see when he returns. And he obviously never bothers telling her what he's up to, where he's going or how long he'll be gone for, or even if he's coming back at all. Caroline doesn't know what annoys her the most; the fact he hasn't even tried talking to her since the whole thing with the witches, or the puppy eyes he keeps sending her way, as though she's the one in the wrong here.

She's still very much pissed off at him, and the lack of any heartfelt apologies on his part doesn't make her feel like striking up conversation.

The only time she swallows her pride and addresses him directly is to ask about Elijah. Klaus says he has no idea where his dear brother has _buggered off_ to and leaves it at that, which strikes Caroline as weird. After everything Elijah did to convince him to stay, wouldn't he demand his brother stick around to follow-through on his promises? Wouldn't he at the very least want to know why he's disappeared? The tiniest things can make Klaus testy, how is Elijah walking out on them not bothering him?

But getting answers to these questions would require her to talk to the father of her child with more than short, monosyllabic sentences laced with disdain, so she doesn't.

Her interactions with Klaus are limited to small notes she leaves hanging on the fridge, mostly lists of things she needs. To his credit — a very _tiny_ credit - her requests are always fulfilled, even the most unusual ones.

Like when she spends the whole night up reading about the culinary traditions of New Orleans and wakes up desperate to try gumbo. There's a large plate waiting for her when she goes down to have lunch, with a tiny note underneath saying _With the compliments of your friend Sophie. She claims hers is the best in town. Let me know if you disapprove of it and I'll have a word. -K_

Caroline almost smiles at that. _Almost_.

So when she's going through the library for the third time in as many days, checking some of the odd and extremely rare books the Mikaelsons have gathered over the centuries, and hears the sound of screeching tires on the driveway outside, Caroline doesn’t even think before she rushes to the door.

If she stopped to consider it for two seconds she'd probably conclude that running to possible danger is not the smartest choice. No one's supposed to know they're staying here, after all, and if anyone has arrived in such a hurry, even if it's Klaus, something must've happened. And if it's not Klaus... Well, then she's in a bit of a pickle.

But after extremely long days of complete boredom, she doesn't think before flying down the stairs. The front doors burst open just as she makes it to the landing.

It’s a Mikaelson, but not the ones she would expect.

_Rebekah._

Caroline narrows her eyes at her old foe, crossing her arms over her chest. No one said anything about Rebekah coming to join them. In fact, Elijah told her he'd called their sister several times and that she'd refused to leave Mystic Falls, to which Caroline replied, _Thank God_.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

"I was expecting to see some kind of supernatural miracle baby bump." Rebekah looks her up and down, her eyes resting on her belly for a moment longer. Her expression changes for just a second, becomes softer, and Caroline knows she's listening to the baby's heartbeat. As quick as it goes, though, her resting bitch face returns. "Disappointing," she adds with a shrug.

"I was told that I had _at least_ gotten rid of you. This is way more Original vampires than I can deal with at once."

"Well, too bad for you, darling. This is my family's home, I'll stay for as long as I want. But just so you won't say I've never done anything nice for you, I brought you a souvenir." Rebekah fishes a crumpled piece of paper from her back pocket unfolding it before handing it over to Caroline with a self-satisfied smile. "There. Congratulations. You just graduated high school."

Caroline's heart sinks. Her high school diploma. She spent the last couple of weeks trying her best not to think about all the things she was forced to leave behind. Like graduation. She was head of the committee organizing the ceremony, ordered everyone's caps and gowns because they were too lazy to do it themselves, had her valedictorian speech already committed to memory, and then she didn't even get to be there.

Compared to everything else, graduation might seem like a small thing, a detail. But it was supposed to be a milestone, and a big one at that. The beginning of the rest of their lives. And missing out on it stings like a bitch. In a single day, Caroline went from having her future all mapped out in front of her to not having the slightest clue of what lies ahead.

"How did you get it?" she asks quietly.

"I compelled someone at school. As far as they know, you were there, graduated with flying colors and touched everyone’s hearts with your beautiful speech. Now you're off to university in California."

Caroline's head snaps up. "What?"

"Oh, yes. Congratulations. You just got accepted into Stanford."

"You compelled... everyone?"

"It was a bit of a challenge and a lot more work than I was honestly willing to do, but it did the trick."

So _that_ is how they fixed the problem of Caroline's sudden disappearance. She was wondering why she didn't get any desperate phone calls from her mother when she missed graduation. They just erased Caroline from the lives of everyone she knows and didn't even bother to ask for her opinion.

The pain in her chest must show on her face, because Rebekah smiles almost sympathetically at her. "Look, darling. I know it's not ideal, but they can't know why you left and this was the easiest way to guarantee they wouldn't be coming after you. It's as much for your good as it is for theirs, trust me."

"How did you do it?"

"Easily, but not quickly. The vervain is out of the city's water supply, I only had to make sure a few of your more careful friends weren't getting it from elsewhere. I didn't tell them to stop talking to you, so I'm sure you'll get plenty of phone calls and messages. They won't forget about you, just... Think that you're in a better place."

_Better place._

It would be genius if it wasn't so sad.

"And my mother?"

"She's thrilled. Couldn't be prouder," Rebekah says, and then, after a pause, "And she misses you very much. But she's all right. She'll be safer there than here. Wherever my brothers aren't, that's where you want your loved ones to be."

Well, she can't really disagree with that part.

The last thing Caroline wants is for her mother to get caught up in this mess. Liz gets herself in enough danger as it is just trying to handle things in Mystic Falls. New Orleans is in a whole new level of insanity — the city is literally run by vampires who have declared war on witches and werewolves. Her mom will be better off as far away from there as possible.

Which is not to say Caroline is better off away from her. What kind of pregnant girl doesn't want to have her mom near? Not in a million years did she ever think she'd have to go through this without Liz there to hold her hand and teach her all about motherhood. The prospect of bringing a hybrid child into this world is scary enough, but being all on her own to do it makes it so much more frightening.

"Speaking of my brothers," Rebekah continues. "Where's Elijah? I've been calling him for hours."

"How should I know?"

"You live with him."

"No, I don't. He's been gone for weeks now."

Rebekah frowns. "What do you mean, gone?"

Caroline shrugs. "One minute he was here, talking about family and the redemptive powers of love, and then... _Poof_. Gone. Didn't tell me he was leaving, where he was going or if he ever means to come back. I guess it serves me right for being fool enough to think I could trust any of you Mikaelsons."

"Elijah doesn't break promises," Rebekah says through gritted teeth, anger flaring in her blue eyes. "Which means Niklaus has done something dastardly and Klaus-like. _Klaus_!" She bellows, storming off after her brother. "Get out here and tell me what you've done with our brother, you narcissistic backstabbing _wanker_!"

"Enough with all the shouting!" Klaus emerges from one of the rooms, much to Caroline's surprise. She didn't even know he was home. "Little sister," he drawls, a sly smile curving his lips. "I should've known you were on your way. Marcel just mysteriously lost six of his nightwalkers. I assume that was your doing?"

Rebekah snorts. "They were very rude, trying to victimize a poor innocent girl just trying to find her way to the Quarter. So sorry. Were they friends of yours? Oh, that's right. You don't have any friends."

"I do have friends. I have Marcel. You remember him, don't you? He fancies himself the king of the Quarter now and has all these rules about killing vampires. It'll be fun to see what sort of punishment he comes up with for you."

 _Oh, lord_. Caroline rolls her eyes and decides to go back to the library. Already she regrets begrudging the quietness. Those two are going to be at each other's throats for hours and the last thing she needs in her miserable life is more Mikaelson family drama.

Billions of perfectly healthy, _living_ men in the world and she had to get the hots for an undead one with an apocalyptic temper and terrible familial bonds.

_Way to fucking go, Caroline._

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

She's perusing a book about the lore of werewolves written sometime around the 16th century by a priest who claimed they had been personally created and sent to earth by Satan himself, when Rebekah barges into the room.

Caroline sighs, looking up at the youngest Original, who's grimier than ever after a long quarrel with her brother.

"Yes?"

"What did Nik do?" she demands.

"You're gonna have to be more specific."

"To Elijah."

"I have no idea."

"What the bloody hell have you been doing here all this time?"

Caroline lifts the book, arching her eyebrows. "It's cute that you'd think your brothers would bother sharing anything with me."

"You didn't even ask when Elijah went missing?"

"I did. He told me Elijah left on his own accord."

"No, he didn't!" Rebekah barks. "Haven't you learned anything yet? Elijah is the good brother, Nik is the evil one."

Caroline's brow furrows. Rebekah's standards for good and evil are probably more than a little askew. As far as she's concerned, they're all equally bad.

"Something tells me he's lying somewhere right now with a dagger in his heart. I'm gonna search every inch of this house until I find him," she says, and then, almost as an afterthought, she adds, "And you're helping."

Rebekah storms out of the room, her stilettos clicking as she goes. It takes Caroline a second to realize she's meant to be following.

In all truth, she doesn't really want to be pulled into the Mikaelson drama more than strictly necessary. They have a thousand years of hard feelings to work out among themselves and she's got enough issues of her own to occupy her time. But if Klaus really did do something to Elijah... Well, then she has terribly misjudged a man who did nothing but show her kindness.

If Rebekah's right, he's the one in need of help now, and while she could've been using all that free time to search for him, she spent her days sulking about and mentally cursing him for leaving.

Also, she is _so_ bored.

Rebekah goes straight to the basement, a part of the house Caroline hadn't explored yet. Mostly because it smells really bad down there. She figured, because the house was abandoned for such a long time, that it's filled with rats. But when they get to the bottom of the stairs, what Caroline finds is even worse than a rodent infestation.

"Are those...?"

"Yes, they are," Rebekah says, walking around four coffins lined one next to the other. The coffins Klaus had back in Mystic Falls, where he used to carry his family. All of which, as far as Caroline knows, are dead.

"I thought he'd gotten rid of those after they... died."

"Nik carried our dead mother for a thousand years."

"Yes, but she was preserved, wasn't she?"

"You never know when the opportunity to resurrect a dead family member will arise," Rebekah says, her hands lingering on one of the coffins. "Nik likes to be prepared for when his misbehaving siblings inevitably disappoint him. This one's mine. But I don't see Elijah's. He must've stashed it elsewhere."

"This is sick."

"Like you didn't already know that when you slept with him. But hey, welcome to the family," Rebekah says, punctuating her sentence with a sardonic little smile. "Knowing my dear brother, he's already planning a box for you the second you give birth to whatever's cooking in your tum."

Caroline gazes suspiciously at Rebekah. She's used to the vampire's mean quips, but she doesn't sound like she's joking now.

"He wouldn't," Caroline says, more to herself than to Rebekah. If anyone had told her that a month ago, she wouldn’t have a single night of sleep over it, so certain she would’ve been that it would never happen. Now, however, her confidence wavers.

"Wouldn't he?" Rebekah stops in front of her, looking straight into her eyes. "I'm not sticking around for long. As soon as I find Elijah, I'm out of here. I won't spend another decade in a box. I suggest you find a way to break that hex the witches put on you and run as far away from Niklaus as you can. Consider this a friendly advice."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

She waits until Rebekah leaves to take one of the cars and escape.

While she was staying with Sophie, the witch mentioned a store in the French Quarter, _The Cauldron_. It's supposed to be a tourist trap sort of souvenir shop, but it's run by actual witches who sell all sorts of ingredients for spells and potions, most of which cannot be used anymore since Marcel's ban on magic.

Klaus would freak out if he knew she left the house, but it's gonna be a quick stop. They ought to have what she needs, it's a simple enough ingredient. And no one knows her there anyway. She'll blend in, get the herb and go back to the plantation before anyone realizes she left.

Finding the place is simple. A quick Google search gives her the address and the historic city center isn't that big. But when she gets there...

She stops.

All she has to do is go in, ask for what she needs and get out. It'll take a minute. Not even that. But something holds her back.

The implications. The weight of her choice. She won't be able to walk away from it. And even if she knows it's the right thing to do, the _only_ thing to do, it's still not an easy decision to make. This isn't the kind of thing a woman should have to do out of fear, or in a hurry. But she's desperate and alone and kind of terrified too and the only person who would listen to her, who she feels would _understand_ , is currently AWOL, thanks to the father of her child.

This is the most messed up Caroline's ever been in her life, and considering some of the things she's been through, it's saying a lot.

She curses under her breath, nervously pacing across the street from The Cauldron. The longer she takes, the more likely to get noticed she is.

And if Klaus finds out she's here...

_What's the matter, Caroline? Just freaking do it already!_

It was something about what Rebekah said. About _the way_ she said it. No one knows Klaus better than her, not even Elijah. And she is pretty convinced that, as soon as the baby is out, Klaus will turn on her. The only reason he's keeping her around is because of the precious cargo in her womb. Although why he'd want a baby for himself, Caroline can't imagine. But the Mikaelsons have always been very weird about how they relate to one another, this _always and forever_ thing they keep repeating. In a very twisted, very misguided way, family means something to them.

Whether Klaus wants the baby or not, it _is_ his blood. Caroline isn't.

And the thing is, she wants _so badly_ to believe Rebekah is wrong but, so far, all the evidence points towards her being right. Klaus has done nothing to disprove his sister's theory. Quite the opposite. He hasn't tried to win Caroline's trust or reassure her in any ways. It's like he doesn't even care about how she feels.

All the affection he's once shown for her has completely vanished. Klaus barely even looks at her. Whenever he is home, he locks himself up somewhere and drinks himself into a stupor, putting physical barriers between them to go along with the emotional ones already in place. She hasn't the slightest idea what his frequent excursions into the French Quarter have been about, whether it has anything to do with the witches and the baby or if it's just personal business of a completely different nature.

To all intents and purposes, he wants absolutely nothing to do with her. His interest died the second he learned about the pregnancy. So why would he want her to stick around once the baby is born?

Caroline doesn't even really _want_ this baby. It messes with everything she had planned for her near future. She wasn't supposed to get pregnant for many years yet, and certainly not with _Klaus’_ baby. But even if she doesn't want it, even if she knows she's absolutely not ready to be a mother, she can't imagine leaving the baby in the hands of the Mikaelson clan. What kind of life will it have, being raised in a family of immortal psychos? What kind of person will it become? She already has a responsibility to it and bringing a kid into this world just to _suffer_ is worse than not having it at all.

Caroline can't do that to her own child. She won't allow it.

Right now, she's being used as a pawn in the witches' game. But if there is no baby, then they have nothing on Klaus, and consequently nothing on her either. It's an easy and quick way to end this misery, for everyone. She'll be doing a favor not only to herself, but to Klaus and their unborn child as well.

So what the fucking hell is keeping her from crossing the goddamn street and get the freaking wolfsbane?

Caroline stays for so long locked in her inner battle that the lady who runs the store prepares to close. And it's only when she realizes she's going to miss her chance that she decides to move.

"Hi!" she says as the young woman locks the front door.

"I'm sorry," she says with an apologetic smile. "We're closing."

"Please. I just need a tiny bit of herb."

"Which herb?"

"Uhm... Crushed aconite flower."

The woman's eyebrows arch up to her hairline. "Wolfsbane? That's a poison. Looking to kill a wolf?"

Caroline feels her stomach churn away inside of her, her mouth tasting bitter all of a sudden. "Just a tiny one."

The woman motions for her to wait and goes back inside the store. She returns not a minute later with a small package. "A few drops in some hot tea. That should do it."

Caroline tries to pay for the herbs, offering all the money she had on her - it's not much, but should be enough to afford a tiny bit of wolfsbane. The witch puts a hand around Caroline's and gently refuses to take it, smiling sympathetically. "This is an ugly town for little wolves. You're doing the right thing."

"Thanks," she mumbles, before storming away, the package burning in her hand as though she were a werewolf herself.

That's it, then. Time to fix her mistake.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Klaus snaps his fingers and the blond bartender promptly brings him another bottle of bourbon — not without an eye roll first. Camille, says her name tag. Pretty little thing with a big attitude. Marcel's always had an appreciation for the feisty ones, as evidenced by his centuries long obsession with Rebekah.

"It's not strictly part of my job to come serve you here, you know," she says as she pours him a drink. "I work behind the bar. And the snappy fingers thing is unbelievably douchey, by the way."

When she tries to take the bottle away, Klaus holds her arm and forces her to put it down on the table. "I'll take the whole thing."

Camille arches her eyebrows at him. "That's the second one." And then, after a pause. "Rough day?"

"Rough century," he mumbles, taking a swig from his glass. "Don't worry, love. You'll be well rewarded for your extraordinary efforts."

"That's the least I expect. A thank you doesn't hurt either." The woman turns around and saunters back to the counter.

Klaus has been keeping a close eye on her since he arrived in New Orleans. Marcellus is quite enraptured, and she's new in town, apparently unaware of New Orleans' more obscure facets, therefore unlike to be on vervain, which makes her the perfect candidate for a spy.

Besides, as a bartender, she's an excellent source of information.

He's been diligently working on securing Marcel's trust and infiltrating his inner circle, making himself available for whatever his old friend might need. But even on his absolute best behavior, Marcellus remains suspicious. He'd have to be an imbecile not to be. Klaus taught him too well, which is why extreme measures have become necessary — like delivering Elijah to him as a peace offering.

His brother's presence was raising red flags all over the Quarter. He and Marcellus had been like father and son, but Marcel’s relationship with Elijah was strained at best. It didn't matter how agreeable he made himself to Klaus; he'd never be completely open with Elijah lurking around.

That's the very fundamental thing Rebekah fails to understand. This is war. His little sister has always been so very sentimental, allowing her feelings to take the best of her. It's why she's ended up with a dagger in her chest so many times throughout the centuries. She trusts far too easily. Marcel is not the enemy, but he needs to be taken down, and they won't achieve that by playing house in the swamp.

Or that's what he's been telling himself anyway.

It's possible Klaus' decision to leave his brother in the hands of Marcellus was made in an unreasonable fit of rage and it's possible he may be having second thoughts.

He and Elijah had been estranged for a long time, the brief moments they shared in Mystic Falls notwithstanding. Klaus had forgotten what it was like to have his distinguished, virtuous older brother casting judgement upon his every move all the time.

Elijah looks at him as though he's a disappointing project, a broken toy he means to fix, now more than ever. Always so noble, so magnificently upright, with his morals and values and unbreakable promises. Klaus feels small next to him. Lesser. None of his own achievements, none of his efforts or his intentions seem good enough, dignified enough, next to Elijah's obfuscating presence. And the way he'd been looking at Caroline...

His unwavering dedication to the mother of _his_ child, raptly tending to her every need, hanging on to her every word...

It unleashed the beast inside of Klaus.

If Rebekah finds out what he's done, he might have to dagger her as well, otherwise he'll never hear the end of it.

He never thought he'd say it, but his sister should've stayed in Mystic Falls.

Alcohol doesn't make anything better. It doesn't change the fact he, once more, acted like the bastard brother that he is and handed a defenseless Elijah over to Marcellus. It doesn't change that Rebekah will hate him forever. It doesn't change that Caroline already does. But it certainly takes the edge off. And in any case, it's still better than going home to his sister's shrill chidings and Caroline's seething glares.

If he were here, Elijah would take pity on him. Klaus can almost hear his voice, encouraging him to make amends. Perhaps that's exactly why he had to put his brother in a box and send him away. Sometimes it gets too much to live with the weight of Elijah's expectations, his unshakable faith. It's an eternal reminder of all his failures, of the insurmountable gap that separates him from the noblest of his siblings. It's like looking into a mirror and seeing all the darkest bits of his soul, made bare for the whole world to see.

 _For Caroline_ , a voice in his mind says.

Klaus drowns it all out by pouring himself another glass.

That's when the front door opens and Marcellus comes charging straight to him, looking grave and preoccupied.

Klaus smirks. "I know that face," he says. "Woman trouble. Your pet was here just a moment ago."

"I'm not here for Cami. I'm here for you," Marcel says, jabbing a finger lightly into his shoulder. "You're a dick, you know that? Why didn't you tell me your sister is back in town?"

 _Of course_ , Klaus thinks. One hundred years and still Rebekah's presence shakes him up like nothing else. It's woman trouble, indeed. Just not the kind he'd imagined.

"I thought it'd be more amusing for you to find out for yourself."

"Is there anything else I need to know?"

"Only that she's grown considerably more insane in the last century."

"Or maybe that it was her who killed my guys?"

"Doubtful. Unless that biker bar is frequented by small-town high school quarterbacks, I can't imagine she'd be interested."

Oh, Rebekah... His favorite sibling, for certain, but also the one to bring him most trouble. If she'd only told them she was on her way before cutting her Eurotrip with that busboy short to make a surprise appearance in New Orleans, they could've avoided attracting any more of Marcel's unwanted attention. If he was apprehensive before with the news of Elijah's arrival, now that three Mikaelsons have made their glorious returns he'll be more suspicious than ever about their motives, and less likely to let his guard down around any of them.

Before Marcel can contest his answer, however, his phone rings.

"Yeah?"

He turns away and walks to the other side of the bar, which is obviously useless.

"Just got a tip," Klaus hears the voice of Marcel's right-hand man on the other end of the line, the one he nearly killed the other day. Thierry. "Some story about a pregnant werewolf in Bienville Park."

Klaus sits up straight, sobering up in a second as his attention is suddenly piqued.

"Pregnant?" Marcel asks.

"It's what I heard," Thierry says. "I haven't seen her yet."

"Get a couple of nightwalkers to run it down. No werewolves in the Quarter, pregnant or not."

A prickling sense of unease spreads through Klaus' chest. Something tells him Thierry's information might not be entirely accurate. Werewolves don't disrespect Marcel's ban, especially in broad daylight. They know better than to try and face his band of vicious and bloodthirsty vampires on their turf. Many have paid greatly already for them to learn their lesson.

It would have to be a new one. Or perhaps not a werewolf at all.

"Werewolf in the Quarter?" He does his best attempt at nonchalance, pushing down the urgency at his guts while calmingly swigging from his glass. "I guess that solves the mystery with the riff raff."

"I don't have time for Mikaelson family drama," Marcel says. "Keep your sister in line."

He's already out the door when Klaus yells back, "I have a greater chance of draining the Mississippi with a straw!"

As soon as Marcellus is out of earshot, Klaus drops a hundred bill for the bartender and whooshes out of Rousseau's.

He has no idea what Caroline could be possibly doing in the French Quarter, but Klaus needs to get to her before Marcel and his men can do.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

A sharp wave of nausea hits Caroline as she steps outside the house and into the back yard. Instinctively, she puts a hand across her stomach in a protective gesture. But her nausea has nothing to do with the pregnancy, and everything to do with the pile of bodies on the driveway.

Bodies of vampires who tried to kill her unborn baby.

It doesn't take inhuman senses to feel the stench of death. Even from a distance the smell of still fresh blood and decomposing flesh fills her nostrils. Vampires decay a lot faster than humans when they died. Without blood pumping through their veins, keeping their hearts beating, they're nothing but old corpses.

Caroline swallows down past the bile in her throat to keep from retching as she approaches the two bickering Mikaelsons outside.

The moment Klaus' eyes falls on her, dark rage flashes across them.

He's _furious_.

"This is why I told you not to leave the house," he seethes, pointing a finger to the bodies behind him. There are four in total, but for some reason one is still writhing on the ground, the stake driven into his chest conveniently grazing his heart, but not enough to kill him. "Werewolves are not allowed in the Quarter. The second someone senses a presence, you're being hunted."

"I'm not a werewolf," she says, although she regrets it the second the words leave her mouth.

"No," Klaus says, slow and cold. " _You're_ not."

Caroline knows vampires and werewolves can sense each other. They are common enemies, two extremes of a scale — the natural and the unnatural. It's part of their most primal instincts to be able to pick each other in a crowd, which is why it was so easy for Marcel to ban them from the Quarter. They're only lethal to vampires on full moons; any other day, they're prey.

Unless, of course, they're Klaus.

Caroline just didn't think vampires would ever be able to sense an unborn werewolf.

All the way home, she kept replaying the day in her head, trying to figure out how the vampires had found her. She didn't see any on her way, not that she noticed, and she was extra careful. She did her best to mingle with the crowds of nondescript tourists as she made her way around the city and the only person she spoke to was the witch at the Cauldron.

The only moment she could've attracted unwanted attention was while she bid her time outside the store, trying to make up her mind. Perhaps her behavior made them suspicious. But wouldn't they have struck earlier if that was the case? Why wait so long?

It doesn't make sense.

It's just a tiny, ten weeks fetus. She's not even showing yet. How the hell would they ever be able to sniff werewolf essence on her if they weren't very specifically looking for it?

_"You're not a werewolf, but I can smell wolf all over you. Shacking up with the wrong crowd, doll. Such a shame. You're coming with me."_

The memory still makes her shudder. Blind panic exploded inside of her as she found herself surrounded by Marcel's nightwalkers. She hadn't had an encounter with them yet, only heard of the kind of treatment they disposed to witches and werewolves alike. So maybe they couldn't tell what _she_ was, but an older vampire — such as Marcel — might, and if she was brought to him, an unknown witch, pregnant with a werewolf baby, strolling through the French Quarter...

A possible union between wolves and witches represents too great a risk for Marcel's unchallenged rule. Caroline would've been made an example of. And the second those vampires jumped out of the shadows, she knew what her fate would be if they'd ever managed to get their hands on her.

That's when something kicked in, an instinct stronger than her fear, stronger than her doubts. There was only one thing on her mind: the baby. She had to protect the baby. The baby she'd been thinking of getting rid of not an hour before.

After she got the wolfsbane from the witch, she stopped by a café to buy a steaming cup of tea and then found a quiet corner to sit down and just _breathe_. All she had to do was mix the herbs with the tea and drink it. It would taste awful, but it would be over quickly. The regular means to get an abortion were not an option; too much bureaucracy, too little time. Her only alternative was to find a magical solution — one that didn't involve actual magic, which she was banned from practicing, lest it alerted not only Marcel's army but also the witches, who would never let her go through with it.

She needed something irreversible, something Sophie Deveraux wouldn't be able to stop.

Truth is, she wasn't even sure if the wolfsbane would work. Until the vampires showed up, _smelling_ werewolf on her, she wasn't sure what her baby was. Well, she still isn't. It's at least _part_ werewolf, but it could be part witch as well, although Caroline has never heard of a witch werewolf before. Nature's way of keeping its own balance does not include the creation of all-powerful hybrid beings. It's hard to imagine that, in the thousands of years of history since the first werewolves were born, no witch has ever gotten impregnated by one of them, or vice versa. But babies were either one or the other, never both.

Her baby is no ordinary baby, though. It shouldn't even exist. It's an impossible child who not only has witch and werewolf blood, it also has weird vampire blood. What in God's name that makes her child, Caroline has no idea.

If it had been all witch, the wolfsbane would've done nothing. But since it has the werewolf gene, drinking that tea would've been the end of it. It would've caused a miscarriage.

She spent an entire hour staring into her tea, watching as it grew cold, trying to make up her mind. There's no way this freak child will grow up to have a normal life, not with the ancient blood it carries, not if it's to be born in a place like New Orleans. The war in the city has been raging for years, but, in many ways, it's only just starting. And she feels it in her bones that this child inside of her will be at the heart of it, for better or for worse. Reason told her that drinking that tea was the right thing to do.

But still she couldn't bring herself to do it.

Reason, as it turns out, is not everything.

In the end, the vampires made the decision for her. Their attack was all it took for her to realize that as much as she isn't ready to have a child, she is already a mother.

It was four of them and just one of her, but she felt this strength inside, an energy electrifying her entire body. She could take them down easily using her powers, give them a stroke they'd remember for days and incapacitate them for hours, long enough for her to run. That much magic was bound to show on Marcel's radar with the help of that mystery weapon of his, but if she was fast she could be out of there before anyone else arrived. Or maybe not. Maybe she'd have to fight ten vampires. Maybe Marcel himself would jump out of the shadows. In that moment, Caroline didn't care. She'd fight whoever she had to if that meant saving her child.

She was ready, and she was _pissed_ , and as the first words of incantation came to her lips and the magic started singing in her blood, coursing through her body like lightning, Klaus showed up.

He snapped the neck of the one closer to her and ripped off the hearts of the other three so fast it was all a blur to Caroline. She only realized what had happened when the bodies dropped all around her.

"Did they hurt you?" Klaus asked her, his golden eyes lit up.

She just shook her head, letting out a breath that felt trapped. In the middle of the adrenaline-fueled haze, Caroline hadn't noticed how nervous she was, how absolutely terrified. Now her knees were threatening to give in.

She could've died there. Her baby could've died. And so stupidly. So pointlessly. In the hands of bloodthirsty vampires.

For just a second, when her eyes met Klaus', she saw a measure of her own fear in them. He seemed frightened, shaken. Not a common look on him, and one that made her very confused. Why would he be so worried? If things had gone his way, Caroline and the baby would've been long dead now. But it lasted only a heartbeat and then it was replaced by a cold fury.

He gave her the keys to his car. "It's parked around the corner. Go home, lock the doors and wait inside."

"But these bodies -"

"I'll handle it. Now go."

She didn't dare question him, just nodded and left.

He arrived about an hour later in Rebekah's car, with his sister whining about the blood staining her leather seats while he used less than polite expletives to blame her for letting Caroline leave the house on her own.

"I came here to find Elijah, not to babysit your girlfriend. She's not a child, she can take care of herself."

"Clearly, she can't! She would've met Jane-Anne Deveraux's fate, been murdered in cold blood in front of an entire audience of riffraffs and sycophants, if I hadn't found her in time."

"She's a _witch_ , Niklaus, and one who's taken on your ass several times before, if my memory doesn't fail me. She could've handled them."

"And then she would've gotten discovered by Marcellus! Her end would've been much worse!"

Caroline watched from her bedroom window as the two of them continued to argue as they dragged the bodies to the back of the house. Klaus made a bed with some wood and dry leaves, putting the dead on top of it. Soon enough the whole house would smell like rotten barbecue, and her stomach was already roiling in disgust.

Objectively, Caroline knows what she did was reckless, going out on her own in a city that's taken with vampires just waiting for an opportunity to latch their teeth into a witch's neck.

But she didn't feel like she had an option. There was no one she could talk to, no one she could confess her fears and worries to. Rebekah straight out told her to run, that her brother would put her in a box the second the baby was out, and maybe a few months ago she would've called her bluff, but right then, with Elijah missing and Klaus being distant and cold, she wouldn't put it past him.

She never felt more scared or alone in her whole life, and that plantation house is her prison. A beautiful, elegant, blood-stained prison. Even the air in that place feels heavy with the weight of all the horrible things that must've happened there in not such a distant past, and the horrible things that might yet come to pass.

She didn't want to be trapped. Not again. Caroline had escaped too many inevitabilities in her life and dodged too many bullets just to end up here. A victim of circumstances, unable to fight the inescapable ties of her own destiny. Maybe years ago she would've surrendered to the tides, but not anymore.

Caroline will _make_ her own fate, and that of her child's. She won't let her spirit be crushed at the hands of the Mikaelsons, or the witches, or anyone else for that matter.

"So you think I'm supposed to sit at home all day and do nothing?" she asks, all defiance. "What else do you want? Dinner waiting for you when you get home from your exhausting days doing God knows what?"

Klaus snarls. "I had a plan and your little nighttime stroll put it all in peril."

"Well, maybe if you would bother _telling_ me what your plans are I wouldn't accidentally ruin them!"

As they spar, Rebekah gets apparently tired of hearing the pathetic whimpers of the last remaining vampire and moves to put him out of his misery, but Klaus turns to her like a beast. " _Leave him_!" he roars.

It's a scream that would scare the crap out of any sensible person, but not Rebekah.

"Bite me, Nik. And don't give me this crap about having a plan. You've had all the time in the world to execute a plan and no one's seen you do a damn thing. Elijah promised to protect _your_ child so that he could save you from your selfish, rotten self. You obviously don't give a damn about the child or Elijah because what have you done to honor it?"

"I have done _everything_ ," he hisses, words catching fire as they tumble out of his mouth. "From the day I arrived, Marcel hasn't trusted me. From day one, he's had his vampires ingest vervain. I needed a spy. Someone on the inside who Marcel would never suspect. So I created a day zero and got there first. Marcel had just lost six vampires, thanks to your little murder spree, and he needed new recruits. So I made the new one mine before he'd had even a drop of vervain. But we all know the real way to a man is through his heart." Caroline snorts at that, and Klaus glares at her. "So I compelled a bartender he had his eyes on. And this one." He kicks the vampire on the ground, who lets out a painful groan. Caroline would feel sorry for the agonizing pain he's been in for hours if he didn't actually deserve it for trying to attack a pregnant woman. "I'm gonna drain him of vervain. Compel him to believe his mates found religion and moved to Utah so that he can explain to Marcel why he lost three more bloody vampires tonight."

Klaus grabs the dying vampire by the foot and drags him back inside the house, a cacophony of cries and moans in his wake as he takes the man to whatever torture chamber he has set up in one of the many hidden rooms in the house.

Rebekah catches her eye, looking suddenly sober and concerned now.

"Are you all right?"

For the first time ever, Caroline looks at the youngest Mikaelson desperate to see more than just a ruthless vampire who was out to make her life hell and whom she vowed to hate for the rest of eternity.

Rebekah hadn’t just been an Original murderer like the rest of her family; she was Caroline's personal nemesis. She had fun messing up the one part of Caroline's life she managed to have a measure of control over, the tiny little things she could keep organized and unaffected by the craziness that surrounded her. School life was her refuge, her method of working out her frustrations in a positive, constructive way. Then Rebekah showed up trying to take over the reins of as many committees as she could, giving useless ideas to the school dances just to mess up with her plans, using her vampire abilities to cheat in PE. If Klaus is the devil, then his little sister is a demon - and one with a ridiculously pair of inhumanly perfect legs to flaunt about.

Caroline never thought there would come a day when she would wish to find a friend in Rebekah. It just goes to show how desperate she truly is.

"I'm fine," she says, heading back to the house.

When they go in, Klaus is already waiting for them at the foot of the stairs, having dropped his prisoner off somewhere.

"Now is my turn to ask the questions. Caroline," He fixes her with a steely gaze. "What were you doing in the bloody French Quarter in the first place?"

"Leave her be," Rebekah says, attempting to intervene, but Klaus grabs his sister's arm before she can push him out of the way.

"She will answer me."

Caroline feels something snap inside of her. A bubble of rage and frustration bursting, leaving her hot all over and seeing red. The sheer _arrogance_ of him to think that she'd owe him explanations when he _is_ the explanation.

"You wanna know why I went to the French Quarter?" She sticks out her chin, words tumbling past her clenched teeth. "I was buying poison to put this baby out of its misery."

She watches as a complex set of emotions flashes across Klaus' eyes. He's taken aback by the ferocity in her voice, then shocked as realization finally dawns on him. That's when the true blow lands, and his expression becomes a jumble of hurt and resentment.

He steps away from her as though she'd just punched him in the face. Just saying it out loud hurts, sends a chill running through her, but this is too heavy a weight for her to carry alone. He needs to know what he's done. The kind of burden he's left on her shoulders. It's not fair for it to eat away at her while he distracts himself with his plotting and scheming to steal Marcel's crown as though that is all there is.

Maybe to him it is. He wants to be king and this baby is a mean to an end. Something he can use to harvest the support of the witches and even the werewolves when the time comes.

But her child is not a weapon, nor it is a stepping stone. And she's not going to drown in guilt and remorse while he acts as though he's got nothing to do with it. He _must_ know that every day that goes by with him refusing to acknowledge her presence took her one step closer to making the biggest mistake of her life.

It's his fault, too.

For a second, Caroline thinks he’s going to lash out. The way his eyes flash, a snarl crossing his face. But then he turns around and storms away, disappearing through a door down the hall.

Caroline lets out a breath with an element of a sob, feeling as all that anger suddenly leaves her body like a dead weight. Without it to support her, she falters. Her legs feel unsteady.

She can feel Rebekah standing beside her, brimming with questions, but she can't face her now. Instead, Caroline rushes up the stairs and into the cold, scant comfort of her room.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It's safe to say absolutely nothing about this return to New Orleans is going as expected.

For starters, Rebekah didn't think she'd still be here by now.

The revelation that her devil of a brother had somehow managed to impregnate someone — Caroline Forbes, of all people — was, in all honesty, quite shocking. But not shocking enough that Rebekah didn't appreciate the fact that Niklaus had taken off to another city and she would _finally_ get a much deserved moment of peace away from his craziness.

She hasn't forgiven him for the cure yet either.

When Elijah first called her, thinking that she'd jump on the first flight to Louisiana, she was adamant to resist her own curiosity. No Mikaelsons had been born for a thousand years. She was itching to see it with her own two eyes. Rebekah has always been a softy where her family is concerned, and when her stoic unshakable brother keeps making heartfelt requests for her to join him, which had _never_ happened before, it’s safe to say she was shaken.

And, well, she felt sorry for Elijah. He'd been away from them for so long he forgot how much of a handful their brother is. Jumped headfirst into this insanity thinking that he'd be able to control Niklaus' erratic and impulsive ways and turn him into a _dad_. Poor thing. Somebody had to give him fair warning. Elijah's eternal quest for Nik's redemption will be the end of him one day.

And that day might be closer than ever.

When Rebekah decided to leave Mystic Falls, it was supposed to be temporary. She didn't even properly say goodbye to Matt, with whom she spent a fabulous time touring Europe. She was going to make a quick stop in New Orleans, point some fingers at Caroline, tell Nik how sorry she feels for his kid and give Elijah a good luck hug before returning to Virginia.

Then her brother went missing. Caroline got attacked by a mob of angry vampires whilst considering whether or not to terminate her pregnancy. And now she found out that Nik gave Elijah over to Marcel as a _gift_. To put him at ease. Gain his trust.

Their own _brother_. In a _box_.

All Elijah did was believe in Niklaus. Give him his unconditional support. He promised to take care of the mother of his child so Nik wouldn't have to, so he could go out and get as crazy as he'd like, not bothering at all about the pregnant girl at home. And in good Niklaus fashion, he punished Elijah for being too virtuous. Too honest.

It's unbelievably cruel, even by Klaus’ standards.

In his diabolical little head it all makes sense. All the horrible things he does, the pain he inflicts upon his own family, it's all perfectly justified. _I have a plan. I'll honor Elijah's wishes._

Her brother has become so twisted that he doesn't even realize the fault in his own actions anymore, is incapable of seeing what would be obvious to anyone else. As much as Rebekah tries to remember him as the sweet boy who used to make her toys and hold her when she was afraid of the storms, it becomes harder and harder by the decade. There's nothing there anymore. Somewhere along the way, her favorite brother perished, ceased to exist, and all that was left in his place was this soulless monster who doesn't care about anything or anyone but himself.

_"If you don't like my plan, there's the door. See if I care."_

Oh, how she wishes she could just turn around and leave... Go back to Mystic Falls and continue on with her small town life, away from the darkness that surrounds her family wherever Niklaus goes.

But she is not like him. She can't leave now, not when Elijah lies in the hands of the enemy. Not when Caroline is... _Oh, Caroline._

That poor, poor girl. Rebekah never really liked her, had fun teasing her, watching her fume whenever their classmates decided to go with her — much improved — suggestions. Too uptight, too righteous, too bossy, too bubbly. Caroline Forbes was just _too much_. But there was a lot about her Rebekah came to admire, if she were to be frank.

Caroline was loved by her friends, could command a room wherever she went without ever needing to compel anyone. When she started talking, people listened — including her soulless brother, whose murderous bestial eyes would become soft and follow her around wherever she went. It's ridiculous how many times he got played and tricked by the Mystic Falls gang simply because Caroline sat down for a drink or offered him ten minutes of her time.

Above all, Rebekah envied Caroline's independence. She was strong, fiercely resolved, determined to the point of stubbornness, but she knew what she wanted and she never backed down without a fight.

If she were human, that's what Rebekah would want to be. Her own person. Away from her family, from all the men in her life. Unfortunately, her last name and history never allowed her to make a life for herself, which means she always held a grudge towards people who had what she couldn't, especially the ones who didn't value it enough. Freedom is so underestimated by those who've always had it.

Now that strong girl Rebekah used to love to hate has been reduced to a jumble of nerves. Caroline is a mess. The way she looked at Rebekah outside, as Nik piled up the bodies of her attackers...

She was lost. Rebekah doesn't think Caroline Forbes has ever been lost a single day in her life, but in that moment, she was. So, so lost.

Nik really does ruin everything, even that which he cares for the most.

Rebekah can't even begin to imagine what must've been going through that girl's head as she went all on her own to buy poison from a witch in a strange and hostile city where basically everyone was out to get her. Elijah will be so furious when he returns. And not just at Niklaus...

Rebekah never meant for Caroline to go out and put herself in danger, or to terminate the pregnancy, when she told her to run.

She stands by her advice, still thinks that the best place for Caroline to be is as far away from her family as possible, but if she had thought, even for a second, that her words would've led to this, she wouldn't have said it. Not like that, anyway. The girl was in desperate need of a friend, someone to offer her support and make her feel welcome and safe and instead Rebekah walked in and tore down everything Elijah tried to build in the short time Niklaus allowed him to breathe outside of a coffin.

She had been so angry - at Niklaus, at Elijah, at a thousand years of deceit and agony that never seem to end - that she didn't stop to think of how her words would resonate with someone who was already so confused. So it's her fault, too. Caroline had been hanging by a thread and Rebekah pushed her over the edge.

They're all cursed, the Mikaelsons. They destroy everything they touch. She can be as mad as she like at Niklaus, but the truth is... She's not much better than him. None of them are.

How unlucky of this miracle baby to have come to a family that has done nothing but smother light for a thousand years.

As if on cue, Rebekah hears the sound of soft footsteps approaching the back porch. Niklaus walks like the floor has wronged him terribly, so it can only be Caroline. She stops close to the door, hesitating for a second before pulling it open and taking a seat on the chair next to Rebekah's.

They stay in companionable silence for a while. Caroline has every reason to be mad at everyone in the family and yet she doesn't feel like it. Her presence is cool. Serene. Even after everything that happened today, she still has her mind in place, if only barely.

It makes Rebekah think that she never gave the girl the credit she deserved.

Rebekah can hear the second heartbeat inside of Caroline, tiny but as strong as ever, but she still has to ask. "You didn't take the poison, did you?"

"No," Caroline says, simply.

There's a pause, and then Rebekah says, "Nik gave Elijah to Marcel."

Caroline turns to face her, eyes wide in a mix of dread and disbelief. " _What_?"

"He said Marcel was getting antsy, suspicious with two Originals back in town. So he put a dagger through our brother's heart and gave him over to Marcel as a peace offering. It's all part of his grand plan, he says."

Caroline is quiet for a moment. "I knew Klaus was... complicated. But this is..." She trails off, shaking her head.

"Disgusting? Unacceptable? Unbearable?"

"It's like he’s not the same person he was in Mystic Falls anymore. Or... He's gone back to being how he was when he first arrived. Like this city has messed up the little he'd managed to pull together."

"Don't fool yourself, darling. This is Nik's default, what he's always been like. That tamed version you fooled around with was the exception."

Caroline looks down, her expression pinched as she seems to retreat into a place inside her own head, mulling over what Rebekah just said.

 _Great_ , she thinks. _Me and my big mouth again. Next thing she'll jump in front of a moving car._

"Look," Rebekah starts, waiting until she has Caroline's attention before continuing. "Nik says he doesn't want this baby, that he doesn't care about what happens to it. But the truth is... I think he might care too much, and it terrifies him. Nik doesn't handle emotions well. He's always at his worst when he's scared."

"Scared of what?"

Rebekah doesn't know what to tell her. To be honest, she isn't sure herself. Lord knows she's tried tirelessly for ten centuries to understand her brother's reasoning only to fall short every time. There is no telling what goes inside that deceptively beautiful head of his. All she knows is what she sees, and what she saw when she arrived at the Quarter to pick him up with the vampire bodies was someone shaking with the need for revenge. What she saw in his eyes when Caroline confessed what she'd been up to in the city was fear. Whatever that means, she doesn't know.

Caroline puts her hand inside her coat and pulls out three daggers. Three silver daggers.

"Oh my God," Rebekah gasps, her eyes going wide as she recognizes them. One of those spent decades at a time stuck in her chest. "Where did you get these?"

"I found it in your coffin," Caroline explains, giving them to Rebekah. "Yours, Kol's and Finns'. So the only one missing is the one currently with Elijah. Which means..."

"Nik doesn't have any more daggers."

Caroline smiles softly at her. "If this is all he had on you... Then there you go."

"Why are you giving them to me?"

Caroline shrugs. "I don't like the way your brother handles things around here. So I decided to change it."

Rebekah feels a sudden surge of appreciation for Caroline. She _definitely_ didn't give her enough credit.

Now that Nik can't put her in a box again, she can go get Elijah back.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

There's a suite at the Palace Royale paid in advance under Klaus' name. He hasn't spent a single night there, only stopped by a couple of times, when he knew he was being followed. It would probably be easier for him to settle down at the hotel for the time being, considering he spends most of his time at the French Quarter anyway, but that would mean not seeing Caroline at all, and that just won't do.

Rationally, Klaus knows that would probably be the smartest thing to do. Marcel can't know about Caroline, about the baby she's expecting, and the best way to do that is to distance himself from her. The less crumbles leading back to the plantation, the better. But Klaus just can't do it.

He comes back every night, no matter what, shows up at odd moments throughout the day, sometimes to bring her things she's requested, sometimes just to make sure everything's in order. Duty and ambition takes him to the Quarter every day, but an even stronger force drives him home every night.

Every morning, before he leaves to start his daily pantomime of being seen around the Quarter just to placate Marcel's suspicions, Klaus stops by Caroline's room. He makes sure she's asleep, and uses all of his vampire stealth not to disturb her.

A brief look from the door is the closest he dares come to her, can only bring himself to do it when she doesn't know he's there. When he can't see the contempt in her eyes.

He can only leave the house once he knows she's all right. Safe. Resting. Not being plagued by nightmares likely starred by him. He wants the same as Elijah, for her to be as comfortable as possible in their family's home, and he thought the way to do it was by not forcing his presence upon her, letting her decide in her own time when it was appropriate to cut the distance short.

Apparently he was wrong.

He's been wrong about a good many things lately.

Klaus felt possessed as he scavenged the city after Caroline. He would ruin his cover and all his plans if he had to, he didn't care who he had to kill. He'd murder Marcellus himself if he dared to touch a single hair on her head.

With her life in danger, absolutely nothing else mattered.

An image of Caroline's dead body, ripped apart by vampire bites, drained of all her blood, her eyes blank and unseeing, was seared onto his mind. It opened a hole in his chest, made him want to roar in crazed anger. If she'd been harmed... If he'd been too late... There wouldn't be a single force in nature capable of restraining him. New Orleans would be no more.

He was awash with relief when he finally found her, alive and unscathed, ready to fight her attackers. So tough, his Caroline... They'd never take her easily. Actually, no — they'd never take her, period. She's strong, his little witch, and even from a distance he could see that she was possessed by her own kind of beast in that moment.

He would gladly let her take them out. It would serve them well to be punished by that which they underestimate. He always loved to see her in action, the way she commands her powers with such elegance, bending the forces of nature to her will, as though it's all an extension of herself. He was obliged to step in not because he didn't think she could take those men down, but because her magic would attract unwanted attention.

After the initial relief of finding her settled, in came the anger. At Caroline, for being foolish enough to think that a witch pregnant with a werewolf wouldn't raise any eyebrows in a city where both are preyed upon. At Rebekah, for leaving her alone. But most of all at himself, for letting this happen, for not paying enough attention, for not being as good as Elijah.

Klaus had yelled and raged at her because he couldn't do it at himself, but it's safe to say he blamed his own missteps more than anyone else's, and that just made him all the more frustrated.

He thought he had it under control, that he didn't need anything or anyone, least of all Elijah, to take back the city and make it safe for Caroline and her child. And yet how quick had everything escaped his grasp... How so very close to falling apart it all came...

If anything had happened to her, it would've been his fault. All his fault.

He spent the whole night in a futile attempt to bury his shame in a bottle of bourbon. All it did was unnerve him further. It didn't help that all he could think was that he wished Elijah was there. His big brother wouldn't have let it happen.

Elijah would never forsake Caroline as he had. And he would never let Klaus ruin things so drastically that she would feel her only way out would be to get rid of the baby, cutting all ties to his family - to _him_ \- once and for all.

More importantly, Elijah would know what to do now. He'd know how to fix this. How to apologize. Klaus has never learned how to do it, not in a thousand years. It's strange for someone like him, who's always wielded his words as the sharpest of weapons, to suddenly find himself so bereft of speech. So uncertain.

Even if his brother's eyes glowed with admiration whenever Caroline was around, even if her smiles lit up his face as though he were a child seeing snow for the first time, he would at least not let everything crumble this way.

Oh, what had he done...

As in every other day, when dawn finally breaks through the dark, Klaus stops by Caroline's room, quietly peeking inside. She's still asleep, so small in that enormous bed Elijah got for her, surrounded by pillows and soft duvets.

His brother, ever the gentleman, allowed her to choose her room before anyone else. She didn't pick the most luxurious or the one with the largest closet. She went for the one Klaus would've favored; the room with the largest windows. The light in there is perfect, especially at this hour. It bathes everything in a golden hue. Klaus flexes his fingers, wishing for a pencil and his sketchbook.

Even after such a long time, it still strikes him how beautiful Caroline is. Like this, peaceful and untroubled, under the warm sunlight seeping in through her windows, she looks like a Renascentist muse.

Perfect. Pure. And unattainable. To a monster such as himself, at least.

It reminds him of another sunny morning, not too long ago. Caroline asleep in his bed, tangled in his sheets, gloriously debauched. He remembers the sinful smile that graced her lips as she looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes that still sparkled with pleasure.

It filled Klaus with such lust, such _hunger_. He thought finally having her would cure him of his juvenile affections, of that warm feeling that possessed him like a force, plaguing his every moment, dominating his every thought. He thought he'd wanted her precisely because he couldn't have her, because she kept refusing him, making the pursuit all the more exciting.

He'd never been more mistaken before.

He wasn't prepared for the taste of her. For what having her in his arms, writhing underneath him, her nails digging deep into his back, would do to him. For how hearing his own name as a plea - as a _prayer_ \- on her lips would bring him completely undone.

Having her only made him crave her more, and it would never be enough. Caroline was an addiction.

It is in Klaus' nature to be restless, to always crave for more. He wants, that defines him. There was a very specific reason why he ended up in Mystic Falls, in the same woods where it had all began, a thousand years before, and it was never a part of his plan to stick around for so long. His ambitions were always much too great for such a tiny place. But in that one brilliant moment with Caroline he came to find something he had no idea he was looking for, something he never found anywhere else, never thought possible, not to him: peace. Balance. Completeness. His spirit was satiated. The turmoil in his head, such a constant companion, ceased; the beast that roars inside of him, quieted.

That, for one such as him, is a treasure greater than any spoils or riches or conquests. Of course it wouldn't have lasted, as it didn't; Klaus is much too volatile and restive for it to remain. But he keeps the memory close to his heart. It was happiness. A kind of happiness. And he wouldn't have change it for nothing in this world; not for a crown, or a brand new doppelganger, or even an entire army of sired hybrids.

That was the day their child was conceived. Seems fitting that something miraculous would come out of such a wondrous moment, the only night they've ever spent together. There might've been others, but life got in the way. Silas. Graduation ( _"I'm head of three different committees!"_ ). Elena Gilbert.

Then, before Klaus realized how much time had gone by, Caroline went missing, he got a letter demanding his presence in New Orleans and now here they are.

That night two months ago feels almost like a dream now. The only proof it was real is growing inside of Caroline.

That connection they shared, once so strong, so inevitable, is now shattered. Where there had been tenderness and desire now there's only resentment and animosity. The child changed everything. It's hard to share Elijah's enthusiasm when already things have deteriorated so drastically.

And yet, for some inexplicable reason, when Klaus heard her say with such vileness, such anguish, that she'd gone in search of something to kill it, it had felt as though being stabbed in the heart. Raw hurt spread across his chest, and suddenly he didn't know what else to say. To do. It was a feeling he could not understand.

He'd never wanted that child, then why was he so disappointed? Why was he so _angry_?

As he watches her sleep, it dawns on him that the source of his heartbreak might not have been the child at all. Ridding herself of the pregnancy would rid her of him as well. Would break the last frail cord connecting them. And through no fault of her own, she hadn't even felt like she could trust him enough to come to him for support.

No wonder she had grown so fond of Elijah so fast...

A faint familiar scent catches Klaus' attention, and he realizes it's coming from her purse, open on the edge of the bed. The last thing he should be doing now is going through her personal things, but it’s almost stronger than him. He knows that scent; it prickles at his senses.

He finds is a small empty vial of an aconite flower concoction. Wolfsbane. _Poison_.

It brings a sour taste to his mouth.

"You don't have to go through my purse. Just ask." The sound of Caroline's hoarse voice, thick with sleep, startles him. He pulls his hand away, takes a step back, and when he looks at her, he finds her watching him through those same heavy-lidded eyes, except they're cold and calculating now, sharp as a knife. So different from the look she'd given him on that morning two months before...

"You're awake," he says, walking to the window, unable to hold her gaze for longer.

"I couldn't really sleep last night."

"Is it the heat? I can have air conditioners installed here."

"You know it's not the heat." After a brief pause, heavy with implications, she says, "I didn't use it."

He knows that much. The sound of the baby's strong heartbeat has been echoing inside his head since he stopped by the door. If she'd taken the herb, she would've miscarried by now. Klaus remembers the desperate women who used to line up outside his mother's door, begging for help to end undesired pregnancies. Aconite flower never failed the ones accidentally impregnated by their despised neighbors, the werewolves. He always wondered why his mother hadn't taken it herself. So much could've been avoided if she'd only made use of her own medicine.

He can’t help but wonder the same of Caroline now.

"What stopped you?" he asks, still facing the luscious garden outside. Elijah had it manicured before they moved in, so Caroline would have a beautiful view from her window. Always so mindful, his brother. "You could've been free of all this... Of me."

He hears the sound of sheets rustling as she sits up. "Do you wish I had?"

 _Yes. No. Maybe._ "I wish you'd told me."

"What would you have said?"

"I don't know," he replies, earnestly. "But we could've discussed it. Discussed your options."

She scoffs. "Because our communication has been so great. Yesterday was the most we've spoken to each other since I got here and it was basically all yelling. I barely even see you."

"I didn't think you wanted to see me."

"How would you know that if you don't even show your face?"

"I know you're mad at me."

"Damn right, I am!" she says, the beginning of real heat in her voice now. "You tell the witches that you don't care if they kill me and then simply disappear from sight? Like you owe me nothing? Not an explanation, or an apology, or even a freaking good morning?"

"You wouldn't even look at me, Caroline, I didn't think you wanted to hear anything I would have to say."

"If you mean your lame ass excuses, then you're right, I didn't. But you should've tried anyway, and taken everything I yelled back at you on the chin because you damn well deserve it. I didn't make this baby by myself, so it's your fault too that we're in this mess. No, actually - it's more your fault than mine. If anyone should've known of any _complications_ from your hybrid transformation, it should've been you."

"And how was I supposed to know? My dear mother never left an instruction manual for something she never wanted me to achieve."

"Figure it out! And would you freaking look at me when I'm talking to you?"

Reluctantly, Klaus does. "Trust me, love. It wouldn't have happened if I'd known."

"But it did. And you can't force me to stay here, live under the same roof as you, and not own up to it. You either let me go, or you stop hiding."

"I'm not hiding. Marcellus doesn't know about this place. He thinks I'm staying at a hotel, and I'm doing my best to keep him convinced of it. I don't want him sending any of his nightwalkers to scout the area and end up learning more than he should."

"I don't care, Klaus. I don't care about Marcel. I don't care about New Orleans. All I care about is that I'm pregnant, all by myself in the middle of nowhere, while the father of my child refuses to even acknowledge my existence."

Klaus inhales the air in slowly. The truth sears, tastes like a bitter drink burning down his throat.

"I don't know how to do this," he admits in an uncharacteristically sheepish tone. "I know I have to bring down Marcel so the witches will let you go unharmed, and I'm doing it the only way I know how."

Something about Caroline's so far ironclad posture shifts, the hard shield in her gaze softening just a tad. "Do you think _I_ know? I may be slightly better equipped for this than you, Klaus, for obvious reasons, but only barely. I have no idea what I'm doing here. I don't know how to handle myself. You're right, I _am_ mad at you. Because you should've come to me by now, you should've reached out because you screwed up and I don’t know how you can think that the way to fix it is by disappearing. I never know where you are, what you're doing, or even if you're coming back. You say you have all these plans on how to take down Marcel, but you don't tell me any of them. What do you expect me to do?"

"I've wanted to speak with you. But I... Didn't know where to start."

"How about with I'm sorry? ‘I'm sorry, Caroline, that I told the witches to kill you and then fucked off.’"

Klaus' eyes flash. "I told you already, I was trying to keep you safe."

"That is not a fucking apology! You told them to kill me!" Caroline's voice escalates, all indignation now. "Well, _genius_. That's _exactly_ what they were going to do. You haven't spent enough time around Sophie Deveraux. She's _desperate_. She doesn't care about dying anymore. If you tell her to murder me, that's exactly what she's going to do."

"How do you suppose I should've reacted, then? A thousand years on this earth and that was the first I ever heard of offsprings. Forgive me if I didn't find it easy to believe the witches."

"You think I would lie to you about this?"

"Not _you_. But _they_ could've done something, tempered with your pregnancy tests, cast a spell to give you false symptoms. I thought if they believed they wouldn't be gaining anything from me by threatening you they would let you go. You're one of them, after all. I didn't think they'd hurt another witch."

"You and your family _founded_ this city and you don't understand how the Quarter covens work? They're their own species, Klaus. I'm not _one of them_. My magic doesn't even come from the same source. They couldn't care less whether I live or die. Especially given the situation they're in."

"Well, then that would've been the last mistake they'd ever make because there wouldn't have been a single witch left in New Orleans to tell their sob story if they'd dared to harm you," he grits out.

Caroline looks away from him, down to her own lap. "You asked why I didn't go through with it. I wanted to. I was convinced that it was the right thing to do. The _only_ thing to do. Not just for myself, but for the baby, too. We wouldn't exactly be parents of the year, and given the circumstances... I didn't want to bring a child into this. I sat there for hours with that poisonous tea in my hands. But I couldn't. Something stopped me. It wasn't reason, it wasn't logic... It was something else. And then, when those vampires showed up, I finally understood. I was ready to fight them to the bitter end, to kill every last one of them if I had to. Because they wanted to hurt my baby. I wasn't protecting myself, I was protecting... _It_. Right or wrong, I'd already taken the plunge. I'm gonna have this baby."

Klaus watches her studiously, the determined set of her jaw, the fire burning through the storm in her eyes. That's the Caroline he knows. The feisty girl who captivated him and made him chase her against all reason, against his own pride at times. She's still in there. Suspicious, scared, even hating him right now. But he hasn't broken her beyond repair, not yet.

"I realized later that I don't even know if taking the wolfsbane would've really freed me," she continues. "Maybe the witches would've still been able to use the link to hurt me, even kill me, just out of spite. But it would've freed you. If there's no baby, they got nothing on you. You could just... Do whatever you want. Kill Marcel. Take the city back by the end of the week."

"They would've had plenty on me if that connection could still hurt you," he says, softly. She seems surprised for a moment, almost like she thinks the only thing keeping him here, dancing to the witches' tune, is the child. Doesn't she know? Hasn't she realized it by now? "I understand you're upset, Caroline, about being confined in this house, but while you're here, you're safe. I can't work this plan out if I'm worried about you."

She rolls her eyes at him, slumping back against her pillows. "Pregnancy is not a disease, Klaus, and I'm not some damsel in distress."

"I'm well aware, love. And I fully trust you're perfectly capable of handling a couple of inconsequential vampires. But until we figure out how Marcel controls the use of magic, you'll never be safe. And I need to know that you are."

Caroline seems on the verge of a protest again, but ends up letting out a resigned sigh instead. He won't be able to keep her on the fringes for much longer. Caroline's spirit is just as restless as his. She needs projects and action and purpose to keep going, to feel alive. Trying to lock her out of the loop has proved to be a mistake. They'll need to find a common ground.

"We've been backed into a corner," he presses. "We were never given a choice. Now we have no option but to fight."

"It's kinda hard to get out of the corner when you can't use your best weapons."

His lips break into a smile, the first honest one in many days. "I'll fight for you. Just for now. You just have to worry about keeping the little wolf inside of you protected, I'll do the rest."

Caroline places a hand across her stomach, mindlessly, as though her arm moves out of its own will.

"What about Elijah?"

"What about him?"

"You have to get him back."

Klaus lets out an impatient sigh. "My affairs with my brother are my own."

"Not if I'm to live here, it's not. Your brother is the reason I'm still here, Klaus. He negotiated with the witches so they'd let me go. He chose this house for us. He convinced _you_ to stick around -"

"Your point?"

"My point is that you can't just put a dagger through his heart and send him away like it's nothing. He is a part of this already. And then you _lied_ to me about it. How could you look at me with such a straight face and tell me you had no idea where he was?"

"I didn't think you'd care."

She scoffs. "I was _mad_ at him for leaving. Why wouldn't I care?"

Klaus' lips twist into a scowl. "You barely know Elijah."

"So? He was a friend to me, and I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't have many of those hanging around anymore."

 _A friend_. She spent no more than a few days in his brother's company and already she speaks of him with such regard. Klaus doesn't need to get scolded by Caroline to know he made a hasty mistake in handing Elijah over to Marcel, but the fact she does makes him even bitterer.

"I'm being expected at the French Quarter," he says, drily, drawing a line under the conversation.

Before he can exit the room, she calls him again. "Elijah told me about you and Marcel. That you two were like family once. What happened?"

Klaus takes a deep breath. His history with Marcellus is yet another thorny relationship he finds himself in at the moment. That seems to be all there is these days.

"I made Marcel everything that he is," he starts, trying to find the simplest possible way to explain something that is so fundamentally complex. "I treated him like a son, and when my father chased me and my family from New Orleans a hundred years ago, we believed Marcel was killed. We each mourned him, in our own way. Yet when I returned, I found not only had he survived, he had thrived." He grinds his teeth, feeling a stab of anger again. "Instead of seeking us out, instead of sticking together as one, he made a choice to take everything my family built and make it his own. Now he is living in our home, sleeping in our beds. That _M_ he stamps everywhere is not for Marcel; it's for Mikaelson. And I want it back. I want it all back."

Caroline stares at him, her gaze flat and speculative, but he can tell she doesn't like what she hears.

There isn't much to be done about it. He'll do whatever it takes to keep the mother of his child safe and honor the deal Elijah struck with the witches. But he will take Marcel down for himself. Because his apprentice has stolen something precious from him and it's only fair that he procures it back. New Orleans has once meant the world to Klaus, and he wants to be its king again.

Preferably with a queen by his side, but if not, he'll settle for having her under his protection. For now, anyway.

"I'll have someone see to the air conditioning," he says, before leaving her to her own thoughts.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

_"I want it back. I want it all back."_

The thrum in Klaus' voice made Caroline shudder. For just a split second there, his eyes flashed yellow, and she got a glimpse of the monster within. The unstoppable Original hybrid. She has no doubt he'll get what he wants. If she were Marcel Gerard, she'd be well on her way to the other side of the Atlantic by now.

The problem is that she isn't sure she shouldn't be too.

It's hard to tell what is on his mind. Caroline prides herself on being excellent at reading people, but ever since she arrived in New Orleans, Klaus has been harder to crack than a black box. The fact he's kept his distance hasn't helped, but even now, staring straight into his eyes, she has no idea what he's thinking.

That his decision to stay in New Orleans has been strongly motivated by his burning desire for revenge against Marcel is obvious. But what are his plans for the baby?

He doesn't seem to want it at all, no fatherly instinct in him whatsoever. And yet... He seemed so hurt when she told him she wanted to get rid of it. So betrayed by the fact she'd made the decision without consulting him.

Mixed signals had never been a thing with Klaus. The man is blunt like a thump to the head, never shy about what he wants, however absurd or preposterous. And now all of a sudden he's incapable of being straightforward.

At least they're talking again, she guesses. At least they managed to exchange more than two words without trying to bite each other's heads off. That's progress. _Some_ progress, anyway.

She's pulled out of her thoughts by the front door opening and slamming shut with a loud thud, and then Rebekah's shrill voice reverberating across the house. "Niklaus!"

Caroline jumps out of bed and follows the commotion, stopping at the top of the stairs.

"You were right," Rebekah tells her brother, sounding totally out of breath. "The girl, Cami. The bartender. She's the key. Marcel likes her."

"And? I already knew that."

"I barged in on their little date, threatened her a little bit and because he likes her, I got to see the secret weapon you've been going on about."

Klaus' stance shifts, his shoulders setting. "Well, don't stand on ceremony. What is it?"

"Not a what. A who. A girl. Davina. She can't be more than sixteen and I've never seen power like that."

"A witch."

That explains a lot, Caroline thinks. Marcel has been keeping a powerful witch prisoner and using her to sense whenever anyone does magic anywhere in New Orleans. It's possible, but it takes a _hell_ of a lot of concentration and definitely a lot of power to be able to pull something like that off. For someone to be keeping it going for months on end and with such precision... It's astounding.

"She's not just a witch," Rebekah continues. "She's something I've never seen before, something beyond powerful. And now, because of you, she has Elijah! Who knows what she could do to him?!" Rebekah's voice escalates to a near shout, her eyes brimming with tears.

Caroline can't see Klaus' face from where she is, but she can picture the stonily fury. "Where is she?" he asks, low and grave.

Rebekah goes blank for a second, and then she snarls. "That clever little bitch. I don't know."

"What's wrong?"

"She wiped my memory of the location." She shakes her head, becoming more indignant as realization dawns on her. "Marcel possesses a weapon bigger and more powerful than an Original and you handed our brother to him! How many times will Elijah forgive you? How long until his hope for your redemption finally dies?"

"I did what I had to do!" Klaus snaps. "Marcel took everything from us! Even our home!'

"And our home is worthless without our family!" Rebekah takes a step closer to her brother, and her voice sounds dangerous as she says, "I am finding Elijah and I'm getting him back. Whatever it takes. Will you help me or will you stand in my way?"

There's a pause. Caroline's fingers close in a white-knuckled grip around the bannister on the staircase, her heart hammering against her ribcage as she waits for Klaus' response. This could be the moment when he declares war on the last family he has standing.

But then he puts a hand on his sister's shoulder. "Whatever it takes," he grits out, and Caroline isn’t the only one who lets out a relieved breath.

Undoing Klaus’ mistake will be difficult enough with him on their side. But without Klaus, it would be damn near impossible.

So that’s it, then. They're getting Elijah back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to this story has been absolutely incredible so far. I did not expect it to do as well as it did, considering what it's about. I was in a very bad place writing-wise, almost giving up on fandom altogether, when [coveredinthecolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/pseuds/coveredinthecolors) convinced me to post this. I cannot thank you guys enough for the support and the really sweet and thoughtful messages and comments I received. The bar has been raised, but I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and the next ones as well. So THANK YOU, so so so much! Your feedback is very much appreciated and I cannot tell you how much it motivates me to keep going at this point.
> 
> So let me know your thoughts and thanks for reading! :)


	3. S01E03 Tangled Up in Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I ask you to please forgive any mistakes you find. And as always, I thank [coveredinthecolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/pseuds/coveredinthecolors) for her patience, support and opinions! <3 Her comments are very insightful and also so very funny. Thank you, Luiza!
> 
> Big thank you to everyone who has been reading this and sending me the nicest, sweetest messages. :) The response to this story has been totally unexpected and incredible! I always look forward to reading your comments and reviews and general thoughts on the updates. Please consider dropping me a note here or on AO3 or giving me a reblog on tumblr (I'm @ galvanizedfriend there) if you enjoy the story or if you'd like to read more. It's really only because of you guys that I keep going at this point and I'll be incredibly grateful if you can help me maybe get to more readers. :) Thank you!

_I have noticed a difference in my siblings._

_Our bond strains beneath the pressure of our life as vampires. Each day removes them further from the humanity they once possessed. My sweet sister Rebekah has grown quite indifferent to brutality. However the true problem remains Niklaus. He continues to hide his loneliness with cruelty._

_Still, I cling to the hope that I, as their eldest brother, can lead them down the correct path, a path charged with the power of a family united. For if I fail, our family's legacy will end in darkness._

Elijah sure is as good with the written words as he is with the spoken ones.

After going through all the interesting books in the library, and even some of the old grimoires — the nondescript ones Klaus leaves unprotected, while the really important ones, like the one that belonged to his mother, are safely kept elsewhere — Caroline decides to investigate what other treasures she could find stashed around the house.

When they moved in, Elijah told her she could go through everything, open every box, every closet, every chest. He never mentioned anything about his personal journals, of course, but Caroline did find them by accident while she searched through one of the old trunks he brought with him. He must've known she end up finding them at some point, if he gave her permission to check out everything, and with the sheer amount of free time at her hands... Well, there's only so much for her to do at that house, so it was really only a matter of time.

Besides, the trunk wasn't even in his room. She's not _that_ nosy, has respectfully kept out of everyone's private rooms, even though she found _some_ people going through her stuff just the other day. Caroline wouldn't let her level of morals to stoop down to Klaus' low. If the journals were out of bounds, Elijah should've either moved them or told her not to read it. As he did neither, she took it as an unspoken permission.

And anyway, these are diaries from the 1600s. He probably doesn't even remember the things he wrote here. It's more like perusing a history book than someone's personal memories.

Caroline finds it both fascinating and mind-blowing.

There are so many interesting facts about the family's history. Things Caroline had no idea. They'd been running from Mikael when they decided to return to America, trying to stay off his radar after Kol attracted unwanted attention by slaughtering entire villages in Italy and Spain — good riddance to that one, by the way. Crossing the Atlantic back in the day was quite an adventure, and one that would take ages for their father to find out about. It gave them the chance for a new start, in a world that was new to most people but far too old for them.

When Elijah said they'd built the city from the ground he wasn't exaggerating. They literally shaped everything to their liking. Caroline still can't believe that the whole architecture of the French Quarter has been influenced by Klaus' _mood_ at the time.

And that's the part that sends her head spiraling a little bit.

She's pregnant with the child of a man who, in the 1600s, was already out there, causing havoc and making enemies. Just thinking about it makes her dizzy.

It's endearing, though, how over three hundred years ago, Elijah was already committed to saving his brother's rotting soul.

 _Three hundred years_ and no significant advancements have been made yet.

There's something to be learned there, for certain.

"I cannot _believe_ you disposed of those vampires without me. You know I love to set things on fire."

Rebekah's voice startles Caroline out of her reading. She closes the diary and puts it back inside the trunk like a child about to get caught doing something wicked.

Elijah never said she _couldn't_ read his journals, but he also never said she _could_ , and she's pretty sure which alternative Rebekah would go with to rub it in her face if she found out. It's best to avoid the unnecessary annoyance.

And in any case, she thought she was home alone, but apparently both Mikaelsons are back from wherever it is that they scrambled off to this morning.

Which means it's time for them to start talking about rescue plans.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"Was I supposed to leave them in the front yard to rot?" Klaus asks, eyebrows arched up to his hairline. "Besides, they were my responsibility. They attacked the girl carrying my child."

Rebekah rolls her eyes at him. Every time he means to win an argument he plays the daddy card now. So pathetic. "I am so moved by your new sense of fatherly duty towards the witch carrying your hybrid bun in her oven."

"My oven and I, on the other hand, would like to know what the plan is," Caroline says, glaring at her as she joins them.

"Well, that depends what plan you mean, love. My plan for world domination or Rebekah's plan to find love in a cruel, cruel world," Niklaus says, smirking.

Rebekah offers her brother a saccharine smile before taking one of the brushes he leaves everywhere around the house and throwing it at him like a dart. He moves his head to the side, grabbing the thing with his fingers, a self-satisfied grin on his face.

"The plan to rescue Elijah," Caroline says. "You know, your _good_ brother who's now in possession of your mortal enemy after you stabbed him in the back."

The second she mentions Elijah's name, a shadow crosses Klaus' eyes. That light mood he had seemed to be in dissipates like smoke. Even her brother's posture changes, from laid back to uncomfortable. Rebekah isn't sure if it's the fact Klaus doesn't appreciate being called out on his bullshit or if he's simply jealous. Maybe both.

"It was in the front, if we're being specific," he quips. "You're very eager to get my brother back, aren't you, sweetheart? It seems you and Elijah became very close, very fast."

Her brother directs a sharp, dark smile at Caroline, who responds by placing both her hands on her hips, as though bracing herself for argument. _Here we go_ , Rebekah thinks.

"You mean while he was trying to save my life while you ran around the city acting like you didn't care?"

When a muscle twitches on her brother' jaw, Rebekah knows it's time to cut in.

"Oh, enough with this! I think I preferred it when you two weren't talking," she snaps. It hasn't even been 48 hours since those two buffoons apparently decided to be on speaking terms again and all they seem to do with their truce is get up to speed with the bickering. It's driving her mad. "Just get a room and get this over with. Or — actually, on second thought, maybe not. Last time you two got a room, _this_ happened," she nods towards Caroline's _oven_. "We have more important issues to discuss right now."

"Right," Caroline says, folding her arms across her chest. "So what's the plan to get Elijah back? You have one, right?"

Rebekah takes a deep breath. "Nik."

Klaus hesitates a moment, but relents under Rebekah's glare. He turns around and goes into the living room, taking a seat at one of the chairs as he starts to talk.

"Firstly, you're mistaken. Marcel is not my mortal enemy. He's a friend. Albeit one who is unaware that I am trying to sabotage his hold over the supernatural community of the French Quarter, but a friend nonetheless," he explains, grinning. "And secondly, I daggered Elijah in order to gain Marcel's trust. If I had known he would place my brother in the hands of a particularly nasty teenage witch, I certainly would've weighed my options a bit differently. And thirdly, sister, please," he motions for her to continue.

"The plan, as you have demanded, is for Niklaus to ask Marcel for Elijah back."

Caroline looks from one sibling to another, waiting for the rest of the story. And when they add nothing, she huffs. "That's it? That's the whole plan?"

To be perfectly honest, Rebekah isn't entirely on par with that part either, but for once she has to agree with her brother that it's best if they give the easy way a try before going straight to the hard one.

"Nik may be a miserable excuse for a sibling, but there is none more diabolical," she says.

"That's only plan A, love. There's always a plan B."

"Which is?" Caroline presses.

Klaus smiles widely at her. You'd never know the horrors in his head just by looking at those dimples. "War."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Unsettled is a rather unbecoming look on a millennium-old vampire. Anxiety doesn't blend well with Rebekah's classic beauty and haughty disregard. But she can't help it when her brother was supposed to have called her an hour ago.

There are many parts of their plan that needs to be polished and she's got quite a task ahead of her if, as is expected, Marcel doesn't acquiesce to their heartfelt request for Elijah's safe return.

It shouldn't take Nik more than five minutes to have a reply, so why the bloody hell is he taking so long?

Tired of waiting, Rebekah decides to reach out to him as she makes her way to the Cauldron, where she's to meet with Sophie Deveraux in 15 minutes. If for some miraculous reason Niklaus managed to persuade Marcel, then she's got enough time to stand her up and go back home to wait for Elijah. If not... Well.

"Niklaus, for the love of Mary Magdalene," she says when her brother picks up the phone after only one ring. "How long does it take to ask a simple question?"

"Much longer than you'd think considering the answer was, as expected, no."

 _Of course it was._ Screwing things up is always easy for Klaus; fixing his messes, not so much.

"Marcel's man, Thierry, is suspicious," he continues. "He thinks you killed nine of his nightwalkers."

"That's a gross exaggeration. I only killed six. Should I make Thierry seventh?"

She can hear the smirk on his voice. "Marcel is playing friendly. We can't kill his favorite son or he'll catch on to us."

"So it's Plan B, then," Rebekah says around a sigh.

"Indeed. But I know exactly what we must do. Marcel is throwing a masquerade ball tonight to impress some of his collaborators amongst the city's human faction and I believe that offers us the perfect opportunity to plant the seed of discord. Do you know what to do with the witch?"

Rebekah stops a few feet away from the Cauldron. No sign of Sophie yet, but she'll be here. Then all Rebekah has to do is convince her that her good friend Katie doesn't exactly have the witches' best interests at heart. Shouldn't be too hard, considering the little bitch is sleeping with a vampire and feeding sensitive information about the coven to Marcel.

Like the news about a girl pregnant with a werewolf visiting her shop, for instance.

"Leave it to me," she says.

This is obviously about much more than a snitch among the witches; they're here, first and foremost, for Elijah. But Rebekah can't wait to give that mousy brat what she deserves. Her niece or nephew could've been dead now because of this Katie and, as it turns out, that has royally pissed her off.

"Good. You manage Sophie Deveraux and I'll take care of the next step. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to teach a poor new vampire how to drain someone of all their blood."

"Oh. Is that the pitiful sound I'm hearing in the back?"

"Indeed. My young apprentice can't seem to get it right, just keeps stabbing the poor sod where it least drains and hurts most."

Rebekah grins. Evil though he may be, her brother knows how to have fun. "Enjoy it," she says, before hanging up just as Sophie turns around the corner.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"Are you out of your mind? No way," Sophie Deveraux says with determination.

Rebekah has just finished explaining to her the part she's supposed to play on their plot for tonight.

Despite all the evidence his sister has showed her of the witch's betrayal, Sophie still stumbles to accept, too scared of what Marcel might do to her.

Although it's probably safe to say her real cause for concern answers by the name of Davina Claire.

If that witch wasn't linked to Caroline, Klaus would teach her never to lie to him again. She's been holding back crucial information, coaxing him into doing their bidding without divulging all the necessary details. He's been walking on eggshells around Marcel for weeks, even handed over his brother to him, because he had to find out what the so called _secret weapon_ was while the sodden witches have known about it all along.

Sophie might be smarter than he gave her credit for if she realized she'd end up dead sooner rather than later if only Caroline's life wasn't in her hands.

"It's very simple," Rebekah starts again with the patience of a monk. "We need you to perform a teeny, tiny locator spell to help us find our brother."

"Haven't you been paying attention? The whole reason for this situation is that witches who practice magic in this town get caught and killed. Even _teeny, tiny_ spells."

"About that," Klaus says, taking a seat on a chair facing Sophie. "It seems you have left out a crucial detail when we made our deal. Marcel's secret weapon. The way he knows when a witch is using magic."

"Girl about yay high, cute as a button, anger issues," Rebekah adds.

Sophie's eyes grow wide. "Davina?" she stammers. "Whe-where have you seen her?"

"That's the problem. I don't know. The little brat erased my memory right after she threw me out a window with her bloody mind."

"Let me cut to the chase," Klaus says, leaning forward. "Davina has Elijah. You witches, I assume, want to get Davina away from Marcel. We don't know where she is. Ergo, we need magic."

Sophie shakes her head. "Davina would sense it."

"Unless, of course, another witch - say, a traitor to the cause, in love with a vampire - Katie, for example? Was to perform a much more powerful magic at the same time. That would create a smokescreen, concealing your very small spell from Davina," Rebekah explains. It's a brilliant plan, really; risky, but quite ingenious.

"Katie doesn't deserve to die," Sophie protests.

Klaus slams his hands down on the center table, making Sophie jump in her place and cower. "Sophie Deveraux," he gnarls dangerously. He may not be able to hurt her, but there are other ways she can be punished.

When he's certain he's made her aware of how thin his patience is starting to run, Klaus stands up and walks around the center table, sitting inches away from her. "You're in no position to be so principled," he speaks with deceptive calm. "Your witchy friend is the reason Caroline was attacked by Marcel's nightwalkers in the French Quarter. I have half a mind to retaliate and, believe me, I don't intend on being _gentle_. She's passing on information to her vampire boyfriend so he'll always be in Marcel's good graces — enough to be granted a special permission to date a witch. How many times have the vampires been one step ahead, known something they shouldn't? Your sister was executed in the public square. You knew she'd be caught. Did she even attempt to flee?"

Sophie averts his gaze, her jaw setting. "She was caught hiding in a cargo hold of a freighter before it set sail down the Mississippi."

"And who, pray tell, in Marcel's valued inner circle, manages his businesses at the docks?"

The fight lifts off of her as realization finally dawns. "Katie's boyfriend," she says, her lips drawn into a down line, all disappointment. "Thierry."

Klaus arches his eyebrows at her. "Well, then. You have your answer. Had anything happened to Caroline — if she'd suffered so much as a scratch, sweet Katie would no longer be amongst us. Her death would've been ugly and painful. But now we have a chance to bring her to justice and make it count. It'll be a mercy, really, compared to what I would like to do to her."

The witch looks from him to Rebekah, the muscles in her throat moving as she swallows down hard. It must be difficult for her to condemn one of her own to death, but she needs to understand that she cannot wage a war against an army and not be willing to have a few strategic losses. Not to mention, Klaus isn't asking. He's just benevolently giving her a chance to agree to his terms by her own will.

When she finally relents with a tiny nod of her head, Klaus flashes her a dimpled smile. "Good," he says, standing up and rubbing his palms together. "Let's get to work, then."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Something is about to happen. Something _big_. Caroline can feel it in the air.

Rebekah went out with Sophie, Klaus has been in and out of the house and that new vampire minion of his - John. Jack. Josh. Whatever - has been hiding in their basement all afternoon.

About an hour ago, as soon as the sun went down, Klaus sent the boy out with that vampire who attacked her and that he'd been keeping as a guest of honor at the improvised torture chamber he keeps downstairs. There's a plan on course right now and it's making Caroline antsy out of her mind that no one's bothered to fill her in.

She's picked up on bits and pieces throughout the day, mostly from the little the siblings shared and the secret meeting they had with Sophie earlier. They didn't invite her to join them, but her ears were glued to the door the whole time, obviously.

It's bad enough she doesn't get to be an active part of things, but to be left out of the loop when things are happening right under her nose? _Ugh_. She thought Klaus had got the message after their conversation, but apparently he needs to be reminded.

She finds him at the study room, ripping pages off some very old looking grimoire.

"You know, a witch, some hundreds of years ago, took her time to come up with complicated new magic and write it all down just to pass it on to future generations," she remarks, leaning against the threshold.

He looks up at her, eyebrows arched in inquiry. "Your point?"

Caroline sighs. "What are you up to?"

"Currently, I'm preparing insurance against the tender-hearted," he explains, calmly, as he folds one of the pages and puts it inside an envelope.

"Meaning?"

"I know you're well aware of our plans for tonight. You weren't exactly subtle with your gasps and your indignant huffing behind the door." He grins; she glares. "We need proper motivation for Katie to cast a powerful spell tonight. I'm creating the motivation. Marcel has ordered a rousting of the witches, at my innocent suggestion. He sent his men to mess up their businesses at the French Quarter and I, in turn, have arranged for things to go tragically wrong."

Caroline frowns. "I'm not sure I want to ask."

Klaus grins shortly. "Don't worry, love. No one will get hurt. Well, no one except for the pet nightwalker I collected amongst your attackers. If everything goes as I planned, and it usually does, he'll be dead by the end of the night, as he should be, and by the hands of Thierry."

"But it's a crime for a vampire to kill another vampire."

Klaus' smile broadens as he pushes off the chair. "Precisely."

"You sent the guy to attack Katie," she says, finally figuring out his plan. Evil vampire dude attacks Thierry's secret witch girlfriend, Thierry gets mad, kills evil vampire dude to protect her, ends up punished by Marcel. Katie performs a suicidal spell to save her lover from certain death.

It's brilliant. And also terribly cold.

"It'll be just a small bite," Klaus says. "Marcel may not be concerned with Thierry's romantic entanglements, but I'll give him a crime he'll be far less inclined to forgive. And then, if Katie hopes to save her one true love from a terrible fate at the hands of Marcel - well, a rescue mission like that will require something positively magical. What's worth dying for if not love?"

"You say that with such cynicism. That's just sad."

"I don't see why. That girl is the reason you got attacked in the first place."

"And I'm not sorry for her. But it is sad that they're in a situation where that kind of thing has to happen at all for them to be together. If it wasn't for Marcel's stupid rules, none of this would be happening."

"Unlikely. A witch and a vampire? Always frowned upon."

 _Don't I know?_ Caroline thinks, remembering the judgy eyes she used to get from Bonnie every time she even so much as looked at Klaus with anything less than revulsion.

"I want to help," she says.

"We've got it covered."

"I know there's a party happening tonight and I know that you're all gonna be there."

"Yes. Speaking of which, I should go get ready."

"Klaus," Caroline admonishes, planting herself in front of him as he tries to brush by her.

"We need everything to happen smoothly tonight for our plan to work, Caroline. You want to get Elijah back? This is the way to do it. Marcel's nightwalkers are gonna be on full alert and that party will be packed with vampires, all of which can sense the little wolf inside of you. You're not getting anywhere near that place."

"But -"

"Don't make me lock you up."

She narrows her eyes at him. "You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?"

Caroline swallows back a snarky reply, because the truth is he probably would. They're on speaking terms now, but they haven't made peace yet.

He places a hand on her shoulder as he walks by, giving a gentle squeeze. "It'll all be over soon, love," he says, dismissing her with kindness, which only makes her even angrier. "Don't worry."

 _Don't worry_. That's easy for him to say when absolutely nothing happens in this city without him knowing it.

Damn Mikaelsons.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It's ironic that Caroline should be bored out of her mind when the whole world is possibly falling apart not very far from her, at the French Quarter.

Here, in the middle of the freaking swamp, all she can hear are the frogs croaking and the owls hooting.

Peaceful. Except for the turmoil inside of her.

Seeing Klaus and Rebekah leaving the house all dressed up to attend Marcel's ball made Caroline seriously depressed. It's been only weeks, but it feels like she's been trapped at this house for much longer. Rebekah brought her clothes from Mystic Falls, but when every day is house arrest day, Caroline doesn't even waste her time trying to look nice anymore. Her hair hasn't seen a curling iron in ages.

It's a small thing, vain compared to all the rest, but it's something that used to be a part of her routine. In here, she lost touch with that side, and it's hard to feel like herself — like her own person — when everything is suddenly about the tiny human in her belly.

Sometimes she feels like she's stopped existing as an individual altogether.

So when she saw Rebekah looking stunning in her ridiculously hot black dress, all glamorous and way sexier than a 1000 years old person should be allowed to look, Caroline envied her, even if she was heading out to a potential massacre. She'd kill for a party right now. Any party. It doesn’t even have to be a good one. A massacre will do.

If she could use magic, there were ways she could disguise her pregnancy so that no vampire would be able to sense the wolf inside of her. But without it, she's got nothing to bargain with. It's not even worth fighting Klaus on it; it _is_ too dangerous.

With nothing to do but wait until someone comes home to tell her what happened, Caroline starts exploring the property. She hadn't really checked out the pretty backyard outside yet, having mainly focused on the interior part of the house. It's enormous. The pool looks rather inviting. She hadn't felt like going for a swim yet, and she's pretty sure Rebekah didn't bring any bathing suits, but since she's home alone...

"You're not supposed to be out here."

Caroline snaps around like a thunder.

It's a woman — a _witch_. And a vaguely familiar one at that.

"Who the hell are you?" she demands, her heart hammering in her chest as she takes a cautious step back.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm Sabine. We've met."

Sabine. Right. She was one of the witches at the cemetery when they told Klaus about the baby.

Not that it makes Caroline any less defensive.

"What are you doing here?"

"Sophie asked me to come and keep you company while everyone is out."

Caroline narrows her eyes at her, suspicious. Something about the witch doesn't feel right. She's too... _nice_. Nonthreatening, almost to an unnatural degree. And if there's one thing Caroline has quickly come to learn about New Orleans, it's no one's nice around here unless they want something.

"Does Klaus know about this?"

Sabine chuckles. "What do you think?"

 _Of course he doesn't_. He would've never left her alone if he knew the witches would stop by to _keep her company_. Would've probably made that sired vampire of his stay behind.

Maybe he should have.

"You know, I had been wondering about you since they brought you here," Sabine says conversationally. "I know Elijah has been missing for a while and Klaus is always hanging around the French Quarter. The sister only arrived a few days ago. You must be spending a lot of time on your own."

Caroline releases a dry and brittle laugh. "Welcome to my humble prison," she says, motioning towards the house. "At least there's a pool."

"I'm really sorry."

"Are you? Because it's kind of your people's fault. You're the ones who dragged me into this."

"We weren't all in unison with Sophie's plan. She was always a bit of a wild card. When we realized what the Deveraux sisters had been up to, it was too late. Some of us have real issues with the fact she not only summoned the Original family back into town, but stroke a deal with them."

"A deal that involves me being linked to a woman I don't even know and being forced to spend all my days like this." Caroline exhales in frustration. "Everyone is out at a fancy party while I... Sit around, thinking about all the wrong decisions I've made in my life that have brought me to this point. Kind of a never ending bad trip."

"Did you want to go to Marcel's masquerade?"

"I wanted to go _anywhere_ outside this property. Do _something_. Anything."

"You know..." Sabine starts, a speculative glint in her dark eyes and a smirk curving her lips. "I could probably help you with that."

"How? Tiny wolf in here, remember? My only experience venturing into the Quarter has not been fun, to say the least. They'd be on my neck in a second if I got anywhere near that ball."

"Disguise it, then. It's not that hard."

"Isn't the whole purpose of this mess the fact you can't do magic?"

"Who says it has to be a spell? There are potions for that. Do you really think wolves never go into the city? We've been selling them that kind of thing for decades."

Caroline's attention is immediately piqued. Something flares inside of her, like a spark of excitement. But as soon as it comes, she crushes it. "No, I can't go," she says, shaking her head. "It's too dangerous. Things could... Go wrong."

"You never pegged me as a coward, Caroline."

Caroline scoffs. "Excuse me? You don't know me. I was ganged up by vampires the last time I set foot in the Quarter. This isn't being a coward, it's being _careful_." Sabine cocks her a daring eyebrow, making Caroline all the more annoyed. Is she seriously trying to rile her into attending that party? "Even if I wanted to go, I don't have anything to wear. I can't just show up to a fancy party wearing... This," she says, pulling on her plain white shirt.

"That's even easier to fix than the potion."

"You're _very_ intent on convincing me to go. I don't know that I like that."

"I'm just trying to help."

"Yeah, well. Your idea of _trying to help_ hasn't been very helpful _to me_ so far."

"I promise I'm not trying to trick you. I just feel really bad for you. And like you said, it is kind of my fault too, as a part of the coven." When Caroline still doesn't budge, Sabine sighs. "It's just a party. I know there's a lot that's supposed to happen, but nothing is going to take place at the _actual_ venue. You could slip in, have a little fun, slip out and come home before the clock strikes midnight. No one would get hurt and you'd have a bit of a night off from your house arrest. And I promise no vampire will ever know you're carrying a wolf baby. My potions work perfectly."

The French Quarter witches are treacherous. They can't be trusted. They're the reason she's in this mess right now. There's something off in Sabine's offer and she can't put her finger on it.

And yet...

The idea of being out of this house for a couple of hours makes her want to start bouncing.

Klaus will kill her if he finds out.

She shouldn't go. She _really_ shouldn't listen to Sabine.

But when she opens her mouth to reply, what she says is, "Ok. I'm listening. Talk me through it."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Marcel has outdone himself, Rebekah has to admit.

She doesn't remember him having that kind of refined taste back in the day, but something must have rubbed off after centuries living with the Mikaelsons' lavish appetite for parties.

His masquerade ball is quite impressive. No wonder the human faction of New Orleans gets so roused about it. The music, the performers, the elegance... It's all very edgy, with a pint of lust thrown in for good measure. There's this air that anything could happen, nothing is off limits.

After years of high school dances, it's nice to be back playing in grown up turf.

Besides, it's a fitting backdrop for the drama that's about to unfold.

Rebekah stays vigilant as she waits for her cue to go and meet Sophie at the cemetery. Marcel is fashionably late — he's apparently taken after Nik with his flair for the dramatics and the grand entrances. But his bait is already in place.

Camille looks stunning. If Rebekah knew the girl would put so much effort into her looks for the evening she might have reconsidered inviting her. She'd be lying if she said she's not a little jealous. But not because of Marcel — never because of him. No, Rebekah just enjoys being the center of male attention a bit too much. That's all. As stunning as she looks tonight, if she may say so herself — and she may, because false modesty is so very boring — Camille is... Well, apt competition.

Even her brother seems to think so. He was on her the second she walked in, warding off any possible suitors. Officially, he's keeping her entertained while they wait for Marcel, also possibly filling her in on what she's to do tonight through compulsion, but Rebekah knows Nik has always had a thing for debauching innocent pretty things such as Camille. If Marcel wants her, then it's very likely her brother will try to get there first just for the sake of winning.

Rebekah would feel sorry for the poor girl if her distracting presence wasn't so needed tonight. She knows only too well how unpleasant it is to be a pawn in the game those two play. Camille does seem like a good bird, though. Genuinely well intentioned. Maybe Nik can be merciful for once in his sodden life and compel her to skip town and get as far away from all this mess as she can, before it ruins her.

She heads to the bar for a refilling, scanning the area for Marcel, when her eyes catch a glimpse of a familiar face in the crowd. There are so many people coming and going and dancing, but for just a second there she could swear it was...

_Bloody hell._

The youngest Original swears under breath.

What _the hell_ is Caroline doing here?

Rebekah checks that her brother is still very much distracted talking with Camille, his back turned to the door, and cuts to her new house mate like a thunder. Nik will go berserk if he sees her, and then all their plans for the evening will be compromised by her brother's sheer inability to think objectively with Caroline dressed to kill in the middle of a bloody vampire ball.

"What are you thinking?" Rebekah demands, pulling her firmly aside, hiding behind a wall, away from Klaus' eyes.

Caroline has the nerve to smile like she has no idea why Rebekah would be so miffed.

"Oh. Rebekah. Hi."

"Are you out of your bloody mind? Don't you know this room is chock full of hungry vampires?" she hisses, keeping her voice low and looking over her shoulder to make sure they aren't being watched. "If they sense you -"

"They won't," Caroline cuts her off. "They can't."

Rebekah frowns, ready to snap again, but... It's true. She can't sense the baby. "How?"

"Don't worry, I haven't done any magic. It's just an old witchy potion. It disguises the scent and muddles the perception. I'm just a normal girl here tonight."

"There's nothing normal about you," Rebekah says, eyeing her up and down, noticing the covetous stares she's already getting. Caroline doesn't just look ravishing in a form-fitting red dress with a thigh-high slit and a black mask. She looks _inviting_. "Where the hell did you get that dress?"

"It's borrowed."

"From whom? It's certainly not mine." _Or I would've worn it tonight,_ she thinks. It looks _amazing_.

"I didn't say it was yours. Sabine got it for me."

“Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“She’s a friend of Sophie’s.”

“And why the hell would a friend of Sophie’s get you a dress?”

“Maybe she just felt sorry for the poor lonely girl, all abandoned in a big house while everyone's out partying.”

“Oh, be more dramatic, why don’t you? You know exactly why you couldn’t be here tonight.”

Caroline just sighs. "Honestly, I expected to get scolded tonight, but not by you. I thought I’d get a little more sympathy from you."

"This place is a ticking bomb, Caroline. No one is safe here tonight except for myself and Nik. Anything goes wrong, this could turn into a war zone and we are the only two here who cannot be killed."

"If that's the case, I have an emergency switch I can use to escape. But we both know the chances of anything happening _here_ are very small, because whatever you Mikaelsons may be, you're also incredibly diabolical in your machinations. And I am really sick of people treating me like I'm an _oven_." Rebekah rolls her eyes at the jab, but feels the sting nonetheless. "None of you even considered the possibility of me coming tonight, or doing anything at all, for that matter. All I do, all day, every day, is _wait_. I just had to improvise, didn't I? Besides, you never know when you might need the help of wit—"

" _Shhhh_!" Rebekah gesticulates frantically to silence her. "Be a little louder, I think the people in the back haven't heard you yet."

"I just want to have a little time off. You're here, Klaus is here, and before tonight is over, I'll be back home, safe and sound, I promise. But can you please just give me a _minute_ to feel like a person again?"

Rebekah groans.

Objectively, she knows it's too dangerous for Caroline to be here. Her potion, whatever it is, seems to be working, but it might not work for much longer, and there's still the fact that she's a witch. They're not exactly welcome in Marcel's inner circle and none have been invited tonight. It's true that all the vampires who saw her face are now either dead or working for Klaus, but still. The risk is too high.

And yet Rebekah can't help but feel like Caroline is kind of right.

She would like to say she can't imagine what it must be like for her, but the truth is she probably can. She's been at the center of her brother's overprotective and controlling ways several times, ended up daggered and boxed for decades just because she threatened to rebel against him. He's not completely without reason when it comes to Caroline, considering that girl has just about become a lightning rod for trouble with that baby she's carrying, but that's not to say what she's getting is fair treatment.

From all the nights she could choose for a stroll among the enemies, tonight is hardly the worst, despite the fact all hell is about to break loose in a couple more hours. Both her and Nik are here to keep an eye on her and it's unlikely Marcel will do anything drastic in front of all his _business_ partners. Sucking up to the human faction is a huge part of how he's managed to keep this city and his very thirsty vampires under control.

The worst threat, however, is neither Marcel nor his nightwalkers.

"You better be very certain that being here is worth having to deal with Nik. He's gonna go mental when he sees you."

Caroline's lips twist into a scowl. "I can handle your brother."

"Good. Because I have too much on my plate already to put up with his moods. In fact... I need another drink."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Caroline watches with envy as Rebekah stops a waiter and gets herself some champagne.

So much about her life would be made easier if she could just take the edge off with a couple of drinks. This pregnancy is a punishment in so many ways...

But this is no time to be feeling sorry for herself. Not when Sabine exceeded all expectations with this dress. Caroline doesn't need to notice the appreciative stares and the faces turning as she walks by to know she looks _hot_. And boy, it feels good.

Despite knowing that she should probably steer clear of Klaus, Caroline catches herself searching for him. There's maybe a tiny rebellious part of her that wants him to see her here, and not just because she looks amazing — which, incidentally, she does.

Openly defying Klaus like this gives her an odd sense of power, sends a rush of adrenaline through her body. He needs to know Caroline is not one of his minions who's just going to sit around at home while everyone else gets to have a life. The sooner he understands this, the easier their relationship — whatever it is — will become.

It's a bit disappointing he hasn't showed his face yet, though. She thought he'd spot her the second she walked in. Rebekah was a much lighter version of the kind of firm objection she expected to have to fight. It's not like Klaus to miss something of interest in a situation where he'd normally be on full alert.

When she finally locates him, though, it all makes sense.

The source of his distraction is beautiful, blonde and dressed like an angel.

Caroline is momentarily thrown by the scene. Klaus is leaning into the woman, whispering in her ear with a mischievous smile on his lips, eyes fixed on her as he talks. The girl hangs onto his every word, wide-eyed and fascinated, which tells Caroline he has turned on the charm. Trying to impress, then. And, apparently, it's working.

From all the things she thought she'd find here tonight, Klaus flirting with some girl was definitely not one of those. The way they're talking, so intimately, how comfortable the girl seems to be so close to him — this is not the first time they've seen each other. Caroline wonders if _she_ is what has been keeping Klaus so occupied in New Orleans after all.

More than a tinge of jealousy wells up inside. It's not like they were ever _together_ , and she doesn't even consider them to be in any kind of relationship at the moment, but still. She is _mad_.

"I'm here trying to figure out why the prettiest girl at this party would be all alone and empty-handed."

Caroline turns to find a handsome man in an elegant blue suit, his dark hair perfectly combed; clear blue eyes sparkle behind a mask and a smirk curves the corners of his lips.

She smiles. "Well, the prettiest girl here doesn't drink. But maybe you can do something about the other part?" she says, suggestively.

"Gladly. Shall we?" he asks, offering her a hand.

As far as Caroline can tell, he doesn't seem to be a vampire. But even if he is, she couldn't care less. Right now she'd dance with the devil himself just to take her mind off Klaus and his new _friend_. She didn't dress up to sulk in a corner because of unresolved feelings for Klaus Mikaelson.

Screw that.

"I thought you'd never ask."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

The second Marcel arrives, surrounded by his group of loyalist minions, Klaus excuses himself and moves away from Camille, clearing the territory.

She's a nice girl, if a bit too oblivious for his taste. Quite easy on the eye as well, which is never bad. Her angelic wings are fitting, Klaus thinks, since Camille is probably the only genuinely good-hearted creature at this party. It's unfortunate that she caught Marcel's attention, but it is what it is and Klaus is not one to be shy about using every weapon at his disposal in order to achieve his goals. Right now, that's her.

As predicted, his former friend makes a beeline for the girl as soon as he spots her. Klaus instructed her on how exactly the night is supposed to go, although he suspects he didn't even have to compel her. Marcel seems smitten, and, compulsion aside, she does have a thing or two for him.

He's not about to take chances, however. Tonight needs to be faultless if he is to recover his brother and keep Marcel blissfully unaware of his machinations.

"I thought you were starting to consider stealing the girl for yourself," Rebekah remarks offhandedly as he approaches her.

"As lovely as the girl is, sister, my interest on her is of the strictly business nature," he says, sipping from his champagne. They still have some time before everything goes down, he might as well relax a little.

"Didn't seem like it from here."

"Good. I'd rather Marcel believes I have eyes on his girl than become suspicious of any ulterior motives."

Rebekah snorts. "I don't know how it still surprises me how much of a calculating bastard you can be."

Klaus flashes her a proud, dimpled smile. "I'll take that as a compliment."

The two Mikaelsons watch as Marcel and Camille take the dance floor, an easy kind of intimacy between them as they sway gently to the slow song playing while exchanging pleasantries. Marcel's all charm with his bright toothy smile. Camille laughs at something he says, momentarily burying her face on the curve of his neck, and Klaus can sense his sister stiffening next to him. Rebekah is so predictable... For all her bravado, she does a rather poor job of concealing her true feelings for Marcellus. A hundred years and a betrayal later and she still isn't over him.

Well, it'll just make it all the more painful when Klaus eventually kills—

His train of thought is brusquely interrupted as his eyes casually fall on a second couple dancing a little further behind. A chilling pulse travels through him and he feels the beast inside of him stir.

"What the hell is she doing here?" he bites out at his sister. He doesn't even blink as he follows Caroline's every move, her smiles as she twirls around with a man Klaus has never seen before.

"Dancing, I suppose."

Klaus glares at his sister. "You brought her here, didn't you?"

" _I_ have done nothing. I was just as surprised as you are to see her."

"She's completely out of her mind. These vampires -"

Klaus starts towards Caroline, ready to break her away from the arms of her dancing partner and take her back to the plantation kicking and screaming if needed be, but Rebekah wraps her hand firmly around his arm and pulls him back.

"Can't sense her," she says, not letting go of him. Klaus frowns. "She's used a potion of some sort. I don't know what it was, but it's working. I can't sense the... Precious cargo. No one knows who she is, or what she's carrying, so be careful, Nik. So far the hungry looks she's garnering have nothing to do with the little bun, but if you draw attention to her, they'll be suspicious. Especially Marcel."

Klaus looks back at her just as the guy leans in to whisper something close to her ear. She throws her head back, laughing, and even from a distance Klaus can see the way the man's eyes glint with desire. He presses his lips tightly together, his whole body rigid in tension. Rebekah is right. He can sense the baby because of his wolf side, but even then it's a very faint awareness.

His anger has little to do with the child, though, and everything to do with the stranger's hand on the small of her back.

"Careful, Nik. You're gonna set them on fire with your eyes," Rebekah teases, finally releasing him of her firm grip.

"She's doing this just to challenge me," he speaks from behind grit teeth.

"Wouldn't you do the same, if you'd been confined to a house like a prisoner when your only crime was to sleep with the wrong person?"

"I'm trying to protect her," Klaus grunts. "Everything I'm doing... it's to keep her safe."

"You're not exactly good at showing your intentions, though, are you?"

"You agree with this, then? You think she's right to come here, to the lion's den, right under the noses of those who would have her murdered?"

"No. But I don't blame her for wanting to. All you ever talk about is world conquering, Nik, _never_ about her, or the mess you two got yourselves into. You treat her as collateral only. A means to an end. Like you're using her."

"Using her?" he says, indignantly. "I never wanted that - _thing_."

"And yet you get incensed every time someone dares to show more interest on the _thing_ you don't want than yourself. Can't you see an inch in front of your own face, Niklaus? She's scared. Alone. Confused. _You're_ the reason she's in this mess, yet you treat like her like she's a burden that's been dropped on your shoulders. The more you push her away, the more she wants to escape, the closer she'll get to anyone who dares to offer her comfort, even if that's a complete stranger at a party. Our brother is the only one who genuinely cared for your _thing_ and tried to make her feel comfortable and safe within our family and _you_ got rid of him. So maybe dial down the evil overlord act a bit, yes? If nothing else, then for her sake at least. If she's slept with you once, in spite of everything you did back in Mystic Falls, she must've seen something worth caring for in you."

The truth in Rebekah's words burn like a bitter drink down his throat.

Klaus will never admit to being wrong. Being hated has never been an issue for him, so long as his ends are achieved. Right this moment, his only end is to protect Caroline, and if that means she'll despise him, fine by him. At least she'll be alive to do it. Somebody always has to be the bad guy, and he'll gladly wear the shoes. But that's not to say it brings him joy to see the gap between them grow larger and larger.

There's anger and jealousy permeating every inch of Klaus' body and as he watches her, it's like everyone else disappears.

She looks... stunning. And it's not just the dress, which is giving Klaus very unbecoming ideas. Caroline just seems so carefree and elated, genuinely lit up. She’s incandescent, her smile alone casting the whole room around him into shadows. He hadn't seen her like this in weeks. Not once since they came to New Orleans. After weeks of being a pale shadow of her old self, she seems to have come alive again. Rebekah is misguided, but she isn't wrong. Caroline's been suffocated by the unfortunate turn of events that has brought them here, and Klaus hasn't done much to make life easier for her.

And all it took was a stranger asking her to dance.

Before he can stop himself, Klaus is moving, stalking towards her with purposeful steps, only vaguely registering Rebekah's voice as she tells him not to go.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Caroline doesn't even see him approaching until he's right there, stealing her away.

One second, Marcus — that's the guy's name, son of a big shot lawyer from Baton Rouge and fresh out of college — is showing her some cheesy dance moves he swears worked like _magic_ back in Yale; the next Klaus has taken his place in such a fluid motion she hardly realized her partners were being switched.

"Hello, love," he says, an easy smirk on his lips.

"Hey!" Marcus protests. "What the hell, man? We were dancing here."

Klaus doesn't even bother dignifying his complaint with an answer, merely flashes his golden eyes at him. Marcus gasps, stumbling back before he disappears into the crowd.

Caroline huffs. "Couldn't you just ask like a normal person?"

"What's the fun in that?"

"So you're doing this for _fun_?"

"Amongst other things. Shall we?"

She considers turning him down for about two seconds, but is overcome by a strange kind of adrenaline. This is a challenge. Klaus _wants_ her to be uncomfortable. He _wants_ her to regret coming out here tonight. And Caroline will be damned if she'll let him win. Two can play this game.

Her gaze never wavers as he guides her across the dance floor. He puts a hand on her back, her hand on his shoulder, their free hands meeting. She faces off, chin high, almost daring. Klaus' smirk widens, amused and yet completely something else.

Unlike Marcus, who was committed but so very clumsy, Klaus knows exactly what he's doing. He's a competent dance partner, of that she was aware; but now he's just showing off. His eyes never leaving their staring contest, they sway across the packed courtyard without ever bumping into anyone else. Such confident moves, in fact, that Caroline lets go and allows him to lead, following his steps like the pro that she is. She'd forgotten how easy it was to fall into rhythm with him. Everything feels in sync without it ever feeling forced.

They can't talk without getting into an argument, can barely stay in the same room for long without all manner of hidden things and unresolved feelings to come spilling out, but they sure can dance. If that's not a metaphor for what their whole relationship has been like, she doesn't know what is.

"I'm really going to have to lock you up in a dungeon, won't I?" he asks, a hint of sarcasm in his voice to mask the truth behind his words.

"You could certainly try," Caroline says, shrugging slightly.

"Why won't you ever just listen to me?"

"Because you're wrong."

"I'm doing the best I can, Caroline. Trying to keep you out of harm's way."

"I know this is a difficult concept for you to wrap your mind around, Klaus, but sometimes you just have to trust that you don't know everything and other people's opinions might actually count for something. I didn't give you a power of attorney to decide everything for me. I'm _fine,_ and if I didn't think I would be, I wouldn't have come. The plan was solid. Nobody can sense the..." She arches her eyebrows at him, leaving it at that. They may not be able to feel it, but they're still vampires with extremely good hearing.

"Wolves aren't the only creatures unwelcome here."

"I don't care. I needed this, Klaus."

"You needed a masquerade ball?"

"A _distraction_. Do you have any idea what it's been like to live in my head for the past few weeks?"

"I'm sure I can imagine."

"No, you can't. If you think you're messed up, try being in my shoes for five seconds. I had plans, Klaus. Things I'd been preparing for my whole life. I knew exactly what the next five years were supposed to be like, I'd known it since I was 10. I was about to leave for college to share a dorm room with my two best friends. Then suddenly I'm kidnaped, find out I'm expecting something that shouldn't be possible, am thrown in the middle of a power play that has nothing to do with me, can't tell anyone about it, can't even see my mother. All I do is stay at home, _thinking_ , mulling over all the craziness that's happened since I — since _we_... You know." Caroline shakes her head helplessly, her heart heavy in her chest.

"You get to forget, even if just for a few hours every couple of days. You don't wake up feeling sick every morning. You don't have weird cravings in the middle of the night. You don't feel tired all the time for no reason. Even my body feels alien to me. Your life has not been reduced to this, Klaus. Mine has. So it's not the same for us. I barely feel like a person anymore. All you and your family see when you look at me is a carrier. A vessel, transporting some fragile, precious cargo. So I _needed_ this. I needed _something_ for myself. I don't care if I have to spend the next seven months locked up in a dungeon, it'll have been worth it. Just to be in a place where no one knows about my _condition_. Where I get to be just a girl in a pretty dress. Where everyone looks at me like -"

"You're the most beautiful girl in the room."

Caroline pauses at Klaus' words, at the new intensity in his eyes, making her skin prickle. His voice betrayed no sarcasm, enough to make her believe he truly means it. There's such tenderness in his gaze, such affection, that she is momentarily thrown, unsure of how to react.

Caroline diverts her eyes, her cheeks burning. "That's debatable," she says. "You looked quite taken by the girl with the angel wings." Caroline quickly spots the girl again, now dancing with another guy, and very enthralled by the looks of it. They're literally a breath away from making out. "I'm sorry to say she might have moved on, though."

Klaus turns his face to follow her eyes. "Camille? We were just having a civil conversation."

Caroline scoffs. "Right."

"She's Marcel's girl."

"Marcel?" Caroline blinks. "Wait. _That_ is Marcel?"

Klaus grins. "I forgot you hadn't been introduced yet."

"Wow," she says, paying closer attention to the man she's been hearing about nonstop since she was brought to New Orleans. Somehow she expected him to be... Different. More imposing. Monstruos-looking, like a cartoon villain. Instead, he's got the brightest smile she's ever seen on anyone and is, in fact, ridiculously attractive. Evil vampires should not be allowed to come in such alluring packages. It's just unfair. "He's hot."

"Don't be fooled, love. He's a wolf in sheep's clothing."

She smiles at him. "Yes, I'm familiar with the type."

"Well, personally, I like to think of myself as the devil in disguise. Has a better ring to it."

Caroline laughs, a big, snorty laugh. It sounds foreign even to her own ears. It feels like a lifetime ago since she last found anything truly amusing. But the look Klaus gives her sends a tingle running up her spine.

It occurs to her that this is the closest they’ve been in months. The warmth of his body, his scent overwhelming her senses, the burning feeling of his hand on her back — it all makes the memory of the night they spent together, the one that got them in this situation, lick through her like wildfire. That after everything Klaus still has this effect on her, that she'd surrender so easily to the familiarity of his presence, of touch, is ridiculous.

But when her body seems to fit so well against his, when they move around the dance floor as though they're one, it's hard to deny that this is the most comfortable she's felt since the day she arrived in New Orleans.

Klaus' arms is the closest to home she's been in weeks.

What does that say about her?

For a second there, it's like the whole world is held in suspension while she loses herself in the stormy blue of his eyes. She can feel herself inching closer to him, feel the ghost of his breath brushing gently against her lips. But then the world starts spinning around again, too fast to catch up, when the sounds of heated argument cut through their moment. Caroline blinks back into her good senses, letting go of a breath that had been lodged at the back of her throat, taking a step away from Klaus, who's already back in his full-hybrid mode.

Marcel is having an argument with a man on the other side of the courtyard.

Even though they're at a safe distance, Klaus has put a protective arm in front of her, keeping her back while Marcel grabs the guy by the scruff of his neck.

"Thierry, I presume," she says. "What are they saying?"

"Exactly what we want them to."

A third man stops Marcel from kicking Thierry's ass right there, where everybody can see, and the three of them disappear around the corner, going up a set of stairs to take their argument to the second floor.

Caroline searches for the angel girl, Camille, who cuts a lonesome and dejected figure in the middle of the dance floor, watching as her prince charming suddenly turns into a murderous frog. Oh, how she can relate... Caroline can't help but feel sorry for the girl.

Marcel lets out a roar of anger, pushing Thierry back against the wall.

"He has your temper," Caroline says.

Klaus turns to her, all that tenderness of a moment ago completely wiped off his face. "It's starting. You should go now," he says, in a tone that aims to draw a line under the conversation.

Caroline sighs.

"Time to turn back into a pumpkin," she mumbles, sparing a last look at Camille before turning around to find a way out.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

 _Show time_ , Rebekah thinks as Diego pulls Marcel away from his angelic date, a dejected Thierry cutting a sad and guilty figure right behind.

She exchanges a quick glance with her brother. It's her cue to go join Sophie Deveraux at the cemetery and get their plan in motion. It won't be long now before Katie shows up to rescue her doomed boyfriend.

When Niklaus puts his wicked mind to work, nothing can stop him. He's likely the strongest creature on this earth, but he doesn't even need to use raw strength to get what he wants. He's got a brilliantly warped brain to go along with the muscles. It's unfair, really. Handsome, smart and powerful is an alarming combination on anyone, all the more so when it comes to her devilish brother.

Rebekah would be faster on foot than in a car, but her choice of attire for the evening has made moving quite the challenge, so she jumps into her convertible and heads out to the witches' lair in Lafayette Cemetery.

When she gets there, she finds Sophie and her witchcraft gadgetry all set, a map of New Orleans open in front of her.

"Katie just left," she says as she lights up candles. "She's heading to the Quarter now. I linked our magics to boost her power, so I'll know when her spell starts."

"Do you have everything?"

"Yes. It's a simple locator spell. I don't think Davina's cloaked herself, she knows we can't use magic to find her and she can conveniently erase the minds of anyone who eventually succeeds."

"Good," she says, taking a step back and trying to relax. Nothing to do but wait for Katie to start wreaking havoc around the French Quarter. "While we wait — did you send a witch to keep Caroline company tonight?"

"Yeah," Sophie says. "Sabine. She's been worried about her."

"Why?"

"Because we heard Elijah was gone. Sabine has a special kind of distaste for Klaus."

Rebekah scoffs. "Who doesn't?"

"Caroline," Sophie deadpans. "We watched her for a little while, did our research before we brought her here. She seemed very close to him, and I don't just mean in the way that got her pregnant. I was surprised when he told us to kill her and the baby."

"Yes, well. That's my dear brother for you. His idiotic knee-jerk reactions are half of everything that's wrong with him."

"I -" Sophie startles, cutting herself off abruptly. "I think it's starting," she says, eyes wide with a sudden rush of adrenaline.

"What are you waiting for? Chop, chop," Rebekah rushes her, motioning for the witch to get to chanting.

She turns to her voodoo artifacts, raises her palms above and closes her eyes.

"I'm ready," Sophie says after a moment. "Katie's started her spell."

"Go on, then. We don't have much time."

Sophie begins to chant again in that strange language of theirs and an unnatural breeze sweeps through the cemetery. Rebekah feels a cold shiver up her spine, bristling as magic seems to rise all around them, pouring into Sophie's spell from the consecrated tombs of generations of New Orleans witches.

Rebekah takes deep, measured breaths, tapping her foot restlessly while she waits. It's awful being this powerless. Originals are supposed to be more effective than this. Being at other — inferior, in her honest opinion — creatures' mercy is maddening. She understands now how Caroline must be feeling.

The dirt on top of the map gathers at the center, and then slowly — _too_ slowly — starts to move, following Elijah's invisible trail. It's heading towards the French Quarter, but this much Rebekah had already guessed. Given what she remembers from the architecture of the place where she met Davina, she could tell it was an attic, and quite an old one, with ancient-looking stained glass windows.

Each tiny centimeter the dirt moves forward, Rebekah feels her heart lurching inside her chest. _Come on, come on, come on_ , she chants under her breath. But then, all of a sudden, the wind stops blowing, the energy in the air dies down completely and the dirt stops moving.

"What was that?" she asks, a desperate tinge in her voice.

"It stopped," Sophie says. "Katie's magic stopped. Something must've happened to her."

_No._

Rebekah's guts go cold. They failed.

"We're almost there, I can keep going," Sophie says, closing her eyes again to continue the spell.

"You can't. She'll sense it and know what we've done."

"No, I can find Davina. It'll be just another moment."

" _No_ ," Rebekah snarls, pulling the map away from Sophie and destroying the little progress they'd made with the time they had. The witch stares at her with a raw hurt in her eyes. "You may be willing to die to get your witch back, but Caroline and the baby will die with you. Elijah will never forgive us and rescuing him will be for nothing. We failed."

_We failed._

The words echo in her mind. They've let Elijah down. Again. It's over.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It's strange to see the compound so eerily quiet.

After Marcel's spectacular bash and the violent after party that took place in the streets of the Quarter when the witch Katie showed up in a suicidal mission to save her beloved Thierry, it seems almost dead.

Marcel cuts a lonesome and heartbroken figure on the second floor, eyes glazed over and distant as he leans over the railings overlooking the courtyard. In need of a friend, then. Which is exactly where Klaus wanted him.

Truth be told, even he is astounded by how perfectly tonight has panned out. There were so many things that could've gone wrong.

Obviously, having Rebekah and Sophie Deveraux working on the locator spell was a fail-safe plan in case his original idea backfired. Stealing Elijah back right under Marcel's nose would've been only too easy once they had a location, but it would also mean burning down the bridge Klaus has been so meticulously building for weeks now. Marcel would know he'd been betrayed, would've known Klaus had been the mastermind behind everything that took place this evening and he could kiss goodbye to his chance of claiming Davina Claire for himself.

Rebekah would've never been on board if she'd known Klaus' true intentions. His sister has always lacked imagination, a sense of bigger purpose. All her sentimental little heart wants is to get Elijah back, consequences be damned. She seems to forget they're fighting a war here. Somebody had to look at the bigger picture. Klaus knows Elijah would've approved of his plan — if he wasn't daggered in a box, that is.

Caroline is more practical, but she's also blindly loyal, and the way she seems to have connected to Elijah in such a short span of time has put Klaus on edge. So sharing the truth with her was also not an option. Klaus isn't sure he wanted to see the disappointment in her eyes. No matter. She'll be glad enough once Elijah is safely back at home.

As Thierry's girlfriend and acquainted with Marcel's ways, Katie obviously knew he'd never let a traitor go. There was no way she could've escaped with her life. So she decided to sacrifice it in order to put an end to Marcel's reign and take revenge. Judging by the haunted look in Marcel's eyes and how shaken he was after, Klaus can guess that, in all his years of ruling over the Crescent City, that was the closest encounter with real death his friend's had. The hatred in the girl's eyes, the determination behind her every step — she was going to murder him and all his closest associates, and there was nothing he could do.

If Klaus hadn't showed up to save the day, of course.

Now Marcel owes him his life and has yet another proof of his allegiance.

The witch is dead, Thierry has been punished and Marcel is more vulnerable and open than ever. All Klaus has to do is seize the chance, win over his trust and make a final move not only for Elijah, but for Davina. With the little witch on his side, there will be no stopping him. New Orleans will be his again, Caroline will be safe and Marcel will pay for his betrayal.

Some days are certainly better than others.

Klaus pours two glasses of bourbon and goes up the stairs.

"You look like you need a drink," he says, offering a glass to the other man.

"Thank you." Marcel looks down at the amber liquid for a moment before taking a generous swig.

"You've had a rough night."

"Cami. How much did she see?"

 _Everything_ , Klaus wants to say. She stood still, watching as Marcel lost his temper, disappointment etched into every line of her body. He had to follow her to Rousseau's and compel her to forget what she'd seen, believe only that she had a lovely evening with Marcel at the masquerade.

"She just saw an argument, mate," he says.

Marcel shakes his head. "Damn it."

"You really fancy her, don't you?"

"I like that she's not a part of any of this. Sometimes it's good to see the world the way humans do."

A couple of years ago, Klaus would've laughed at the ridiculousness of Marcel's words. Such pathetic sentimentalism. The kind of thing that makes one weak, that brings down kings.

Then again, Marcel has always been like that. Too much time spent with his sister, perhaps. Klaus was his tutor, his mentor, so to speak, in the arts of warfare and supernatural rule, but a lot of Rebekah rubbed off on him as well.

Now, however, Klaus can't say he disagrees entirely. He's learned to admire mortality more than he ever thought he would. The fight for survival. The eternal optimism. The relentlessness of the human spirit. And all because of a certain witch that has rattled his world to its core.

There is something refreshing about seeing things through mortal eyes. Blue-green ones, in particular, alight with a fire that can scorch the incautious.

"I'm sorry about Thierry," he says, as earnestly as he possibly can. "I can tell he was a good friend."

"Obviously my trust was misplaced."

"Doesn't make it any easier."

The younger man turns to look at him, and for the first time since his return, Klaus sees the boy he raised instead of the man who stole his kingdom. Hurt bleeds through Marcel's voice, but his eyes are soft. Thankful. Almost nostalgic. It sends a bit of a pang through him.

"You saved me tonight," Marcel says. "Killing Katie. For a moment there, I wasn't certain I was gonna make it out of that alive. I guess that means I owe you." There's a pause, during which Marcel looks away from him, thoughtful. "You asked for your brother back. Seems like the least I can do."

And there it is.

Klaus Mikaelson does it again.

That is why he is fit to wear a crown, whereas others, such as Marcellus, are only ever decent stand-ins.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Caroline hates waiting.

She hates being at home when everyone is out somewhere doing something important. She hates not knowing what is happening. She hates being afraid of dropping dead at any second because Sophie's spell might be detected and she could end up executed by vampires. She _hates_ it.

Keeping her nerves in check is an Olympics level test, and Caroline only does it through the ingestion of humongous amounts of sugar in the form of chocolate chip cookies that she bakes herself. Two full batches. Anxiety is bad for the baby, but she can't imagine that having that many cookies is any better. Still, what can be worse than a mommy going through a meltdown?

Rebekah is the first to get home. One look at her is enough for Caroline to know the plan failed.

"Katie's magic stopped before Sophie could complete the spell."

"Stopped? Stopped how?"

Rebekah gives her a pointed look.

 _Oh_. Right.

"So... Elijah?"

The youngest Mikaelson just shakes her head, her eyes brimming with tears as she brushes by Caroline and disappears into her own room.

Damn it.

Caroline doesn't even know Elijah, not really, but it's weird how she kinda misses him. He was a calming presence, which is not to be underestimated given her current predicament. Not to mention, she feels guilty for not having realized sooner that his disappearance wasn't deliberate. Maybe if she'd pushed Klaus earlier, if she hadn't just assumed that all Mikaelsons are the same, Elijah would be here now.

Caroline retreats to the library to wait for Klaus.

She's starting to think he might not come home tonight when she hears a car fast approaching and breathes out in relief. Part of her was maybe worried about him. It's Klaus, so the chances of something bad happening _to_ him are slim to none. Still, she couldn't help but get apprehensive, knowing that the plan had failed. This Davina person was strong enough to overpower Rebekah and erase her memories. Who knows what else she can do?

She doesn't even hear him coming up the stairs until he appears by the door.

Caroline inspects him from head to toe after signs of struggle, but he looks just as put together as he was at the ball, not a hair out of place.

"Still up?" he asks softly.

"Couldn't sleep," she says, putting her book down. "Are you ok?"

"Better now that I know you made it out of the French Quarter safe and sound."

Caroline rolls her eyes at him. "Go on. Just let it all out now and get it over with. I don't want to spend the next _month_ hearing about this."

"I'm not going to lecture you."

Her eyebrows knit together. "You're not?"

"I'll concede that you weren't completely without reason, although I would've preferred that you didn't choose Marcel's vampire ridden event for a stroll into the city."

"It's not like I have many options," she counters. "But... I will concede that I was... A little reckless."

"Just a little?"

"I don't regret anything, though. It felt good to be out there, even if just for a little while. A bit of normalcy, for a change."

"I may have forgotten to mention," Klaus says, approaching her. "You looked stunning."

Caroline feels her cheeks warm. "Thanks. I had help."

He sighs, shaking his head. "I knew my sister was involved."

"Not from Rebekah. From Sabine."

"Who's Sabine?"

"She's a witch. One of Sophie's friends. The one you threatened to murder at the cemetery."

"Do you honestly expect me to remember all the witches I've threatened in this city?" Caroline gives him a pointed look out of principle, but she bites back on a smile. "Now, why, pray tell, was _Sabine_ here?"

"Don't go getting all suspicious, Klaus. Sometimes people are just nice. She knew I'd be alone here so she came to keep me company, then I mentioned I wanted to go to the masquerade ball, and she made it happen."

"There is no such thing as _nice_ when it comes to witches, love, no offense."

"I do take offense, actually. It's that attitude of yours that makes all witches hate you. It doesn't mean they're all bad."

Klaus flashes her a dimpled smile. "No. Not all of them."

Caroline's mind suddenly reels back to the ball, to how she was a breath away from kissing Klaus, and how terribly inappropriate it would be, but how desperately she'd wanted to do it. After months of feeling like an alien, distant from everything and everyone, so very lonely and in need of comfort and affection, Caroline finally found a bit of her old self. For just a minute there, she wasn't in New Orleans anymore, or pregnant, or at a masquerade ball filled with vampires. And then Marcel started to fight Thierry and the moment was gone.

Probably for the best.

"Anyway," Caroline says, pulling her thoughts away from the rocky shores. "It was all for nothing. Epic failure."

"On the contraire. Tonight was a masterpiece."

"Rebekah said Katie died before Sophie could complete the spell."

"I know. I killed her."

She gapes, turning to him in disbelief. "You... what?"

Klaus shrugs. "Our little suicide witch was gonna try and take out Marcel with her. I saved his life, and in doing so, I now have him exactly where I want him."

"Wait," Caroline starts, stops, considers what he just said again. It's unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. "You betrayed... _everyone_?"

"I did what was necessary," Klaus counters, his expression suddenly pinched. "I know you like to think people can be just _nice_ , and because you're a witch, you're inclined to trust them, but make no mistake, love. The witches are on no one's side but their own. All they want is to get this girl, Davina. And when they get her, what do you think happens then? A truce? They will use Davina's power against all of us."

"But that was not the point. The plan was just to find Elijah."

"You people always did lack faith in me. By protecting Marcel, I've cemented his trust, so much so that he's agreed to return Elijah to us. I didn't even have to ask again, made him think it was earned."

Caroline seals her mouth shut. She doesn't know what to say. That Klaus' plan has been successful and Marcel is returning Elijah is a good thing, but she doesn't think she can agree with the whole principle of the thing. Klaus lied to them, frustrated Rebekah's plan and put Sophie at risk for nothing. He put his revenge plot against Marcel before rescuing his brother.

"You hardly know my brother," Klaus says after a moment, his lips twisted into a scowl. It's hard not to notice the shift in his voice. "And yet you trust him. Blindly. What is it about Elijah that always inspires such instant admiration?"

Caroline considers the question for a heartbeat. "He was kind to me during the scariest time of my life. When no one else was."

 _Not even you_ , she doesn't say. But the blow lands anyway.

Klaus' face stills and sets, his jaw clenching. There's a quick stab of hurt in his eyes before he turns away from her

"Klaus," she calls, stilling him. There's something she's been dying to tell him all night, but it didn't seem appropriate for them to discuss it where vampire ears could hear them. Besides, she was determined not to think about children while at the ball. "I learned something today."

He turns around, a tiny hint of curiosity as he regards her.

Caroline smiles sheepishly. "I think it's a girl."

Klaus stops, his eyes widening for a moment before a light frown scribbles across his forehead. "How do you know?"

She shrugs. "Witchy stuff."

Caroline was hoping that this piece of information would cheer him up, register somewhere on his face, but he remains still, looking blankly at her, almost as though he suddenly got lost in his own head. Caroline looks away, down to her own lap, feeling very uncomfortable all of a sudden.

And then she hears, "A girl," and when she looks up, Klaus is smiling again, very confused, but also a little fond. "We're not having a little me, then."

"Thank God for the small blessings."

Klaus chuckles, and for the first time since this whole thing started, Caroline feels like they are... Together. Not in a romantic way, but as partners. That they can, after all, be a unit.

Well, maybe.

If they put some honest to god work into it.

But it's a start.

"You should get some rest, sweetheart. Good night," he says, softly, leaving Caroline to her thoughts.

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you guys think so far? I'm following the episode format and trying to have as much plot thrown in as well, even though I'm shamelessly here for the fan service, I don't even care. The slowburn is sloooooooowly burning! What do you think of Caroline and Klaus' relationship so far? 
> 
> Telling the story through so many different POVs is totally new to me, I normally choose one or two characters only to write about, but it would be impossible to try to replicate TO without having more characters' POVs due to all different scenes and I think I kinda like it? 
> 
> I know some of you said you wanted the baby to be a boy, but I can't imagine it not being a girl! Both because I think I liked the idea of them having a girl and because Hope, Lizzie and Josie are all girls. I can't see them having boys. lol


	4. S01E04 Girl in New Orleans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I apologize for any mistakes you might find. English is not my first language, yadda yadda yadda. You know the drill.
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who has been reading this and leaving me the most amazing comments. Trust me, your response is a MAJOR boost to keep me going but it's not been easy writing this story. Chapters are turning out ridiculously long, thinking the structure for this is super difficult and I have had to restart bits and pieces more times than I'm used to. It's a lot harder than I thought it would be tbh. lol So yeah, it's really your support what's been giving me the inspiration I need to keep going. 
> 
> Please, don't hesitate to leave a comment! I really look forward to knowing what you guys think. :) And thank you very much to those of you reading this.

"Tell me, Cami. Does that sound evil to you?"

_Cami?_

Caroline stops dead on her track, attention suddenly piqued. Shamelessly, she glues her ears to the closed door, straining to hear the conversation.

She knew Klaus was home, and locked up in a room all morning. She didn't know he had guests.

And it seems like it’s not just _any_ guest either.

"I don't believe in evil as a diagnosis."

Caroline scrunches up her nose at the sound of the woman's voice, fighting to contain the undignified grunt from escaping her.

The girl with the angel wings, who's dating Marcel and who Klaus categorically said he was not interested in, but who now happens to be locked in the living room with him, having some kind of philosophical conversation about the nature of evil.

Klaus has kept the plantation a secret from almost everyone under the argument that it's safer this way. Sophie Deveraux and some of her witchy friends aside, no one knows the Mikaelsons are there. Caroline is made to live a phantom-like existence within the space between her bedroom and the kitchen because the risk of Marcel finding out that a witch has become pregnant with Klaus' miracle hybrid baby is too jarring. 

But he seems to have no problems _at all_ bringing Marcel's own girlfriend into the house. 

He must _really_ trust this girl.

"I think you have unstable personal relationships, stress-related paranoia, chronic anger issues, fear of abandonment," Cami continues. "I think you could benefit from talking to someone. Professionally."

For someone Klaus doesn't have a relationship with, Cami certainly nailed him down. It took Caroline years to understand that Klaus' issues weren't all just fundamental evil, but rather deeply rooted in self-loathing, insecurities and traumas he only knows how to process through violence. They must have been spending a lot of time together. And talking, by the sounds of it. 

"I think I prefer to talk to you."

She can hear Klaus' smirk in his voice, can imagine the wolfish glint in his eyes. Caroline grinds her jaw, feeling a stab of jealousy. 

That lying _dick_.

"So I'm going to offer you a job," Klaus continues excitedly. "As my stenographer."

"Ok. What are we writing?"

"My memoirs, of course. Someone should know my story."

Caroline snorts. That man's ego is larger than the moon. Oh, Caroline could certainly tell Cami some _stories_ about Klaus. She would run away screaming before she even got to the end of his first year in Mystic Falls.

"And that will give us time to discuss other riveting subjects," Klaus adds. "Like your handsome suitor, Marcel."

"Excuse me. My private life is -"

"Your private life is, as it turns out, essential to my plans," Klaus says drily, all the warmth and the easy flirtation completely gone, replaced by a kind of authoritarian tilt that admits no discord. "You see, Marcel wants you. And because of that, he will trust you, which serves me. The thing is, the French Quarter is on the verge of war. On the one side, there's me. And on the other, Marcel... Along with a very powerful witch and an army of vampires."

"What?" Cami's voice sounds choked. Scared even. 

So she has no idea about the vampires. Has been going out with Marcel all this time not knowing what he is. What _Klaus_ is.

Caroline is overcome by a sudden wave of anger, and also a pang of pity for the girl. Klaus is handsome, mysterious and incredibly charming when he wants to be. What girl wouldn't swoon, being at the center of his attention? But he's manipulating Cami. Keeping her tame and friendly to use her against Marcel, putting her in unnecessary danger even. And she hasn’t got the faintest idea of any of it.

She hears a loud gasp with an edge of a sob, and then Klaus says, "You're frightened. Don't be."

She knows that tone. He’s compelling Cami.

Caroline clenches her hands tight, nails digging into her palms. She remembers another charming, handsome vampire trying to do the exact same thing to her, unaware that she couldn't be compelled. She was so terrified that she became paralyzed, unable to react, to scream or fight when he sank his teeth in her neck. Her father told her all about the evil vampires, how ruthless they are, but that was the first time she was ever seeing one in the flesh, and all those bedtime stories she spent her early childhood hearing came back in a rush, overwhelming her.

_Don't be afraid. Don't scream._

She still shudders at those words. Caroline has come a long way, has learned to never stand in fear of anything or anyone ever again, but that kind of abuse — it leaves a scar. And she just cannot stand by while a vampire does to another woman what Damon did to her.

Especially if said vampire happens to be the father of her child.

_Oh no, he won't._

"I'm not scared anymore. That's amazing. How did you -"

"It's called compulsion," Caroline says, barging into the room. "It's a nasty bit of vampire trickery I'm sure he is planning on telling you nothing about."

Klaus rolls his eyes with an air of infinite patience, like Caroline has just ruined his fun, and takes a step away from a very confused Camille.

"Don't you knock, love? I'm kind of in the middle of something here."

"Yes, I've noticed."

"Who are you?" Cami asks, blinking her huge green eyes at Caroline.

"Right now, I'm pissed off. What the hell are you doing?" she asks, pinning Klaus under a death glare and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Wasting my time, thanks to you," he grumbles. "Camille, I'm afraid we'll have to cut our meeting short, sweetheart."

"Wha-what? What is go-"

"Don't worry, love. It's all fine." Klaus places both hands on the girl's shoulder, forcing her to focus on him again. "You won't remember being here today or anything that just happened, especially not meeting my lovely friend. You'll only know that you agreed to be my stenographer and we'll talk more later. Now go, and have a nice day."

Cami's expression, that had been ridden with emotions just a second before, becomes absolutely blank as oblivion takes over. She then just turns around and sees herself out like nothing happened.

Klaus arches his eyebrows at her in a _Happy now?_ way and goes to pour himself a drink. 

"Seriously?" Caroline says, following him with her hands on her hips. "Compelling yourself a friend?"

"She's not a friend, she's a spy. I've told you this already."

"That's even worse, Klaus! You're putting her in danger."

"Nonsense. Marcel adores her."

"Yeah, until he finds out she's spying for you. Do you really not see the problem in this? You're taking away her agency, and not for a good and honest reason. It's selfish and cruel, forcing her to go out with someone she might not even be interested in. That's abusive!"

"I only compelled her to go on one date with Marcel. I never said anything about her having to like him, or do anything else for that matter. I didn't even tell her to keep him interested. Whatever feelings she has, and clearly she's developing some, it's all her own doing. You could say I did them a favor, playing cupid," he says, smiling.

Caroline shakes her head, using every ounce of self-control in her body not to whack him on the head. "You're unbelievable. A favor compelling her to date a guy just to keep you posted on what he's up to and then come here and - I hope to God _talking_ is all you're doing to her, Klaus."

His lips twist up into a smirk. "Is that a tinge of jealousy I sense, love?"

"It's a tinge of I'll your kick your ass from here back to Mystic Falls if you're compelling a girl to sleep with you."

"Whyever would I do that? We both know I don't need to compel women into my bed," he says, waggling his eyebrows at her once before swiging from his drink again.

Caroline scoffs. "Don't change the subject. You have no idea the kind of damage that might cause to a person. I know that doesn't usually mean much to you, but this is a life you're toying with."

"Spare me the lecture, will you, Caroline?" he says, very calmly but giving hints that his patience is starting to run thin. That's Klaus for you. Ending arguments by showing his teeth. "We're in a position of inferiority right now. Marcel has an army and an all-powerful witch, not to mention my brother."

"Which you gave to him!"

"And now I want him back. Don't you? Aren't you oh so worried about Elijah's well-being? Wouldn't you do _anything_ to have my dear brother safely returned to our family?" Caroline scoffs in disbelief at the accusing twist in his voice. Like any of that is actually _bad_. It's amazing how Klaus manages to turn the purest of intentions into serious offenses, almost like Caroline is betraying him somehow just by showing concern for Elijah. "I don't know what exactly you think is happening here, but let me put it in no uncertain terms for you. This is war, Caroline. If you want to win, you can't play fair, because, rest assured, our enemies won't. Marcel is keeping a sixteen-year-old prisoner to do his bidding. How much lower do you think he'll be willing to stoop?"

"Well, then use me." Klaus laughs — actually _laughs_ , humorously. "What? At least I know what I'm getting myself into. I'm volunteering. And if it comes to that, I have a good fighting chance."

"Oh? You're serious? Pardon me, love, I thought you were telling a bad joke."

"Why?"

"Do you have to ask?"

"Why not?!

"Because I'm not putting you in danger!" he roars, finally snapping. 

What he's saying is, I'll gladly sacrifice others — everyone, anyone — but not you. In his head, that's noble. But it makes absolutely nothing better — Caroline is not ok knowing Klaus is out there putting innocent people in harm's way for her. 

"My plan is working out fine, and already bearing fruits," he speaks after a moment. "For instance, I've found out through Camille that Davina will come out of hiding this evening."

"What?"

Klaus' lips curve up into a smug little grin at her sudden interest.

"There's a jazz festival taking place at the Quarter tonight and apparently the girl is a great admirer. Marcel has agreed to let her go and asked Cami to be her chaperone. Which gives me the perfect opportunity to approach the little witch."

"And do what?"

"Convince her to switch sides, of course."

"What makes you think she'd be interested?"

Klaus shrugs. "I don't. But it can't hurt to introduce myself."

"What about me?"

"You're staying put — for real, this time."

"Klaus—"

"You can fight me all you want, Caroline. You will lose."

She snorts. "Condescending much?"

Klaus finishes his drink, then approaches her, a solemn look in his eyes. "If Marcel finds out about you, he will stop at nothing until he gets you. I know you're not weak, Caroline. But you _are_ a weakness. And if he has you, he has everything."

There's a thousand things in Klaus' logic Caroline would like to protest, but the unexpected earnestness in his eyes and the almost pleading tone of his voice leaves her bereft of words. Klaus has always had this kind of effect on her, which she guesses he knows and is not afraid to use to his own benefit. 

Caroline can respond to this temper tantrums and paranoid accusations, to his violent behavior and even his unreasonable bouts of jealousy. But his sincere concern and heartfelt rejoinders always give her pause, make her a little weak around the knees.

Her lack of response, which he probably takes as conformity, satisfies him. "If you'll excuse me now, I have business to tend to."

Caroline bites on her lower lip, mentally cursing herself for not being more assertive as he brushes by her. Right before he exits the room, she tosses over her shoulder, "Stop compelling Cami!"

"Have a nice day, Caroline," he says, and five seconds later she hears the front door closing.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

The _tap, tap, tap_ of Caroline's pacing is driving Rebekah out of her mind. She needs to remember she’s living with vampires now. There is no such thing as soft padding. 

Rebekah tries to block it out and focus on her research, but she can sense Caroline's movement behind her, can even feel the way her nostrils flare, and it's all Rebekah can do not to turn around and throw something at her to make her stop. It's _so annoying_.

The only reason she hasn't done anything yet is because, a) Rebekah does not assault pregnant women, and b) it's Nik's baby. Part of her feels sorry for the poor soul who ends up carrying her brother's offspring. She can cut Caroline some slack. Emphasis on _some_. She would be mad out of her mind if it’d happened to her, too.

Then again, she would've never fallen for Nik's cheap charm, so it serves Caroline right for being so silly.

"Why is he so frustrating?" she blurts out after eons of barely concealing her anger. 

Rebekah rolls her eyes. She heard the two of them having an argument of sorts this morning and deliberately stayed away so she wouldn’t even know what about. Ever since they started talking again, it feels like they can't have a single interaction that doesn't end with one or both of them worked up. 

Elijah would probably know how to handle it. She, on the other hand, just wants to push their faces together and get them to exorcise all the sexual tension they try so fruitlessly to cover up with hostility through something slightly more beneficial than _fighting_ so they can be done with it and move on, and maybe be in a better overall mood. At least if they're having sex they're not screaming at each other or... Well, she takes that back. Never mind.

"Frustrating is Nik's middle name," Rebekah says mindlessly.

"He never _listens_! Why can't he just, for _once_ in his life, act like a normal person and pay attention to other people's needs? Why can’t he just _care_?"

"Are you being serious now? You've known my brother for roughly three years and you choose to realize Nik is a selfish arse after you become pregnant?"

"He wasn't always like that. He knew how to be _nice_ every once in a while. Even sweet. He actually _paid attention_ to the things I said. Even to the things I didn't say."

"Do I need to remind you he was trying to get in your pants?"

"There was no guarantee he would ever succeed."

Rebekah has to laugh at that. Did she really think she was being subtle? "Whatever you say."

Caroline groans again.

"You're getting too worked up, child," Agnes speaks. Rebekah almost forgot the old witch is there. 

They've taken to stopping by to check on Caroline now and she isn't entirely sure how to feel about it. They're conniving little mouses, those witches. As the daughter of one, Rebekah's learned never to trust them. But then Caroline is a witch too and they seem to be strangely protective of their own people, even if they don't belong to the same coven.

Whatever. If Agnes gets her to shut up so Rebekah can concentrate, she'll be more than grateful.

"I'm fine," Caroline says, finally slumping down on the couch.

"Have you seen a doctor yet?"

"I'm _fine_ , Agnes."

"You're pregnant. Just because your baby is magical, it doesn't mean that your body has suddenly become immune to everything. You are overdue for a check-up."

"And how am I supposed to do that, exactly? Pop into the Quarter for a quick ultrasound? A witch pregnant with a baby werewolf. I'm sure the vampires are gonna love that."

"A lot of women would kill to have a child," Rebekah says, not really keeping the edge of bitterness from her tone. "Strikes me as odd that you're not taking better care of yours."

Caroline goes quiet for a moment, and when she speaks again, it's in a lot less combative tone. "This isn't an ordinary pregnancy."

"I know a doctor out in the Bayou, off the beaten path," Agnes says. "I took the liberty of making an appointment for you. Tonight. After hours, so no one will know you're there. I'll take you. The vampires will never get word of it."

Caroline sighs. "Fine. Bayou baby doctor it is."

"Brilliant," Rebekah says. "And maybe get her some floral medication too, so she'll calm down a bit."

"What are you doing, anyway?" Caroline asks.

"I'm trying to narrow down the possible places Elijah could be."

"I thought you didn't remember anything."

"I remember details about the attic Marcel took me to. There were shutters on the window behind Elijah's coffin."

"Klaus said Marcel was going to give him back.”

"And where is he, then? I'm not going to just sit back and count on Marcel's good faith. His delay in returning Elijah could mean an infinite number of things. Who knows what that witch could be doing to him right now."

"Is there anything I can help with? I'm good with researches."

Rebekah shifts on her chair to look back at Caroline. For all their differences, the girl seems to honestly want Elijah's safe return. If Rebekah remembers anything from her brief spell at Mystic High, Caroline truly is a beast when it comes to projects. But this is something she'll have to do on her own. 

"Thank you," she says, sincerely. "But I think you should concentrate on the baby now." And then, as an afterthought, she adds, "It's what Elijah would want."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It's a testament to how truly screwed up everything is that Caroline would accept to see an obgyn in the middle of freaking nowhere. To say it's a _clinic_ would be a stretch. It's an old barn that, but for a tiny little light on the outside, looks completely abandoned. There's no way this place would be approved to function. It can't be safe.

"This is the doctor's office? Seriously?" she asks Agnes as the witch parks her car.

When she said _off the beaten path_ she hadn't been joking. 

"Dr. Paige is only this far out because Marcel's men kept terrorizing her patients. Werewolves need medical attention, too. Especially the pregnant ones," the woman says calmly, a gentle smile on her face.

Caroline makes a face. Under normal circumstances, she would've conducted an extensive research, several visits and checked every bit of reference before choosing a doctor to oversee her pregnancy. But this is no normal circumstance, and no normal pregnancy either. She guesses a doctor who's used to dealing with werewolves might turn out to be the best option after all — even if her office could be easily mistaken for a slaughterhouse.

"Go and talk to her," Agnes presses. "I promise she won't bite."

Caroline exhales. "What the hell," she relents, getting out of the car. "I'm already here."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Marcel should really see about choosing better company.

Turns out his loyal followers aren't as tight-lipped as he would've liked. All Rebekah had to do to coax a bit of gossip from them was promise to take her brother with her when she leaves New Orleans, which — honestly, have they _met_ Klaus? They're either too naive to believe an all-powerful hybrid would do anything she asks or too desperate.

Either way, that boy, Diego, gave her just the tip she needed to finally find the place she was looking for.

Marcel may not be clever when it comes to picking his minions, but he surely is when picking hideout spots to stash Original vampires and super powerful teenage witches. St. Anne's church seems totally inconspicuous from the outside. In the middle of the French Quarter's impressive architecture, no one would pay the smallest bit of attention to an abandoned building on the verge of collapse, not even Rebekah, if she hadn't noticed the familiar shutters on the windows.

Finding the way to the attic is easy enough — at the back of the church, just past the sacristy. And when she opens the door at the top of the staircase, Rebekah _knows_ she's found the right place. 

Davina isn't there, as Klaus mentioned she wouldn't be — something about a music festival in Bourbon street — but Elijah's coffin is. Rebekah feels her heart jumping in her chest, a smile breaking onto her face as she sees his sleeping form inside.

But when she tries to go to him, she finds that she can't. An invisible barrier keeps her from entering the attic.

_Of course_.

Why didn't she realize there would be a boundary spell? Marcel would never leave the place unguarded, not when it keeps such precious treasure as a sleeping Original. _Damn it_. Rebekah should've brought Caroline with her.

Just as she's about to fish her phone out of her pocket to call the little witch and ask whether she's done with her doctor's appointment, Rebekah is engulfed by darkness. A violent chill runs down her spine, like someone just turned a bucket full of ice cold water over her head. She takes a gasping breath, and when she opens her eyes again, she's no longer at the attic.

Or in the 21st century, for that matter.

She's at a courtyard, right next to a carriage with horses and everything, wearing clothes she hasn't worn for almost a hundred years. There's an odd sense of deja-vu, like she's been at this place before, in this exact same dress.

"What the bloody hell?" she mutters under her breath, taking in her surroundings.

"Rebekah, language. Please."

She whips around at the sound of her brother's voice. He smiles at her, all dapper in an old tuxedo, fixing his white gloves. "Elijah!" she cries, rushing to wrap her arms tightly around his shoulders. God, how she's missed him... "What is all this?" she asks, pulling away slightly.

"You don't remember? You and I went to the Opera House together," he says, offering her his arm. She wraps a hand around the curve of his elbow and they start strolling together. She remembers it now. This gown, the carriage... That's why it's all so familiar. It's a memory. Elijah must've pulled her inside his mind. "It was your first foray back into New Orleans' society after Niklaus removed the dagger from you. It's a memory only you and I share. I need you to know this is not another of Davina's tricks."

Oh, her clever, clever brother...

"How are you awake?"

"Davina withdrew the dagger, unaware that doing so even once would negate its power. In a few hours I should be as good as new."

"So what the hell are you doing? Take me back to the attic so I can find a way to get you out."

Elijah offers her a cryptic lopsided grin. "I'm afraid I'm not quite ready to leave yet, Rebekah."

"What? What are you on about?"

"This girl, Davina. She's curious. Willful, too. Soon I'll be able to speak with her, perhaps even propose a truce of some kind. If we can end this war between the vampires and the witches, we'll be able to eliminate the threat to Caroline and her baby. Perhaps then Niklaus and our entire family can finally know peace." 

Rebekah sighs. Bless Elijah's heart, really. His faith in their brother's redemption is unshakable, and so is his loyalty. But Rebekah's frankly starting to tire of these hopeful promises when Niklaus does absolutely nothing to earn it. He betrayed all of them and conducted his own secret plan at the masquerade ball, which clearly didn't work. And while she's been running all over town trying to find this attic, all he can think of is getting his paws on Davina. _The secret weapon_. That's all he ever cares about. Power. Elijah is a fool for believing there's hope for Niklaus. 

"In the meantime, Rebekah," he continues, taking her hands between his palms and giving her a gentle squeeze. "I need you to look after Caroline."

"Oh, bloody hell."

"She's our family now, sister. And I need her and her unborn child to fall underneath our protection. Swear to me, Rebekah." 

The look in Elijah's eyes is a near plea. There's absolutely nothing in this world Elijah would ask of her with such heartfelt sincerity that Rebekah would ever be able to deny. She wants to save him, first and foremost. And then she wants to get the hell out of New Orleans. But if this baby means so much to him - if doing right by Caroline is truly so important, then Rebekah will keep his promise for him while she waits.

"I swear," she says. She blinks, and when she opens her eyes again, she's back at the church.

Time to go find the little witch, then.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

The sound of the baby's heartbeat sends Caroline into a daze.

It's fast. Strong. Steady. _Alive_.

As a ripple of anxiety passes through her, she realizes that none of this had felt completely real until this very moment. She knew she was pregnant. She knew what it entails. The scare at the French Quarter was enough for her to comprehend the level of peril that child is in, and to understand she has to protect it at all costs. But it was all very objective, mechanical almost. A knee-jerk reaction rather than an epiphany or an enlightenment. She was a lioness looking after her cub because that is what mother nature has made her for.

It hadn't completely dawned on Caroline that there is a _life_ inside of her. What it actually means. In less than seven months, the bump in her stomach will push out of her and she'll have a tiny little person in her arms. Her tiny little person. That she made herself. A little person that will be entirely dependent upon her for years to come. That will be hers forever, no matter what.

So far, everything had felt oddly like an interlude, or that's how she was processing it anyway. Like there would be an end to this part, a finish line to be crossed that would somehow make everything settle back into its regular progression.

That illusion is completely dispelled by the _boom boom boom_ of the baby's heart. This isn't a mere disruption. This isn't something she can be done with. It's her baby. Whatever happens now, her life will be forever tied to it.

There isn't a screen for her to look at, Dr. Linda's clinic is as precarious on the inside as it is on the outside. But just the sound is enough to overwhelm Caroline with a kind of emotion she hadn't felt yet. Or ever. She's been through an incredibly complex rollercoaster of emotions since she arrived in New Orleans; fear, confusion, anger, yearning, whatever-it-is-that-she-feels-for-Klaus. But she was yet to feel _love_. Pure and unadorned and like nothing she's ever experienced. Unconditional love. 

There's a strange energy in this kind of love. It's not the same as the kind of affection she has for her mother or her friends, however honest and strong that may be. It's not like the romantic feelings she's had for other people either. This feels _powerful_. Almost like magic.

It's hard to believe that she and Klaus have done this together, made a little person. Caroline keeps trying to understand what was so unique about that night that made this possible. It was certainly _remarkable_ in several ways. A night that populated her dreams for weeks after. Suffices to say that her expectations of what being with a thousand-years-old hybrid would be like were all splendidly exceeded. But as far as she knows, mind-blowing sex does not make miracles — although her multiple orgasms that night had certainly felt like it. Caroline can't believe that Klaus went celibate for over a year after breaking his curse. So unless all the other girls he slept with were all much more careful than her, it doesn't make sense that she'd be the only one to get pregnant. The witches would know if there were others. 

It makes her think of the words _meant to be_. 

Caroline has never been one to believe in fate. She believes in chance, in making your own luck, which is why she's always been such a hard-worker. Every time someone tells her she can't do something, that she isn't good enough, it just makes it all the more satisfying when she invariably proves them wrong. Believing in fate would mean accepting that she's just not cut out for certain things. Like magic, for instance.

Which is what her father used to believe.

Too weak, too undisciplined, too reckless. Bill Forbes thought he'd been cursed with a failure of a child. And for a long time, that's what Caroline believed, too. But one day she decided she wasn't going to be the disappointment her father cut her out to be. She worked tirelessly, relentlessly, and proved to everyone that she could be as strong as any other witch, even the naturally gifted ones such as Bonnie. If magic didn't come to her freely, then she would _bend_ it until it answered to her. 

So no, Caroline does not believe in fate. But when she tries to come up with an explanation to why she ended up pregnant with a miracle baby, she can't find one. All she can think of is how _perfect_ being with Klaus had felt. How _right_. It's the exact same feeling she gets now, listening to her baby's heart go. It makes her think that, although it was clearly an accident for both of them, this can't be wrong.

Whatever may have happened between her and Klaus since that night almost three months ago, however strained their relationship has become, when they came together, there had been nothing but passion. Devotion. Caroline never felt as desired or appreciated as she did on that night, never wanted anyone the way she'd wanted him. The look he had in his eyes, how lit up she felt by his touch, the words he kept cooing in her ears, the devilish smile as he worshipped every inch of her body with his lips… It’s all seared onto her mind. 

In that moment, as they lost themselves in heat and ecstasy and months and months of an ill-concealed attraction that was tearing them apart with _need_ , they'd loved each other.

Nothing bad could ever come out of something so right.

Circumstances are less than favorable. The future is still scary and unsure. Caroline still has no idea if she can even do this right, knows that she is not ready. Her life is upside down, so messed up is hard to even make sense out of anything. But that baby — it has nothing to do with that.

She suddenly misses her mom so much. Impending motherhood has this weird effect of making her feel like a little girl again, scared and yearning for her mommy's embrace. Liz would know exactly what to say. She would hold Caroline's hands, look at her with those big eyes of her, always so kind, so full of warmth, and she would smile. _It's gonna be alright, honey._

"Your baby's heart rate is perfect," Dr. Linda says, pulling Caroline out of her daze.

She blinks, sitting up and taking a few tissue papers to clean the gel off her belly. "Yeah. She's a tough one," she says, still a bit distracted.

"Your blood pressure is a bit high. But I've got something for it."

The doctor walks off to the next room, where Agnes is waiting by the front door. Caroline's phone buzzes in her pocket. It's a text from Rebekah, asking where she is. _At clinic with doctor_ , she types back.

Then a lot of things happen almost at once. Caroline hears a wolf howling right outside, sending her a weird sense of urgency that makes all the hair on her body bristle. She goes to the window to check, and realizes a car has just parked outside, right next to Agnes', very quietly, all lights off. Four big guys are stepping out and heading to the door.

When Caroline looks gain, the doctor has just returned to the consult room, a strained smile on her face. 

"Here, just take these," she says, trying to give Caroline a few pills and a glass of water.

She takes an instinctive step back. "You know, I'm not very good with pills."

"Well, me neither, to be honest." Dr. Linda shrugs, walking past Caroline to get something from one of the cupboards.

The men are now talking to Agnes by the door, their eyes all locked on Caroline as they speak.

Something's happening. Something _bad_.

When Caroline turns back to the doctor, she's got a huge needle in her hand and an apologetic expression on her face that tells Caroline everything she needs to know. The wolf howls again, and some kind of primal instinct awakens inside of her, just as it did with the vampires at the French Quarter. 

Caroline wraps her hands around Dr. Linda's arm and, with a strength she never realized she had, twists it around. There's a loud crack, and the woman screams. Caroline takes the needle and sticks it into Linda’s neck before rushing to the door and locking it up, the men outside already running towards her.

" _Fuck, fuck, fuck_ ," she mutters under her breath, trying to think of what to do, the doctor now lying totally still on the floor. Whatever that thing was, it was supposed to take Caroline down.

How did she not realize this was a trap?

The window. It's old and rusty, but she manages to loosen it open with one hard pull. She could use her powers, but staying and fighting is only going to delay them. Those men outside — they're with Agnes, and if they're with Agnes, they're probably witches. If she attacks them, they'll attack back, and it'll be five against one. Not to mention, they have probably come prepared. And with witches fighting off at the Bayou, it won't be long before the vampires come crawling out of the shadows.

Caroline jumps out the window as the men try to take down the door. It won't resist for much longer, but before they can get inside, she's already running, disappearing into the woods.

She has no idea where's she's going, or even how far from civilization this place is. She didn’t think to pay attention as Agnes was driving her there. _Very smart, Caroline._

She just runs and runs and runs, losing herself in the deep Bayou. Her legs are taking her almost out of their own volition. The surge of adrenaline must be huge, because she doesn't feel tired. Quite the opposite. Caroline feels strong like never before. Almost inhumanly so.

There's a whooshing sound and then an arrow hits a tree right by her side, narrowling missing her arm. The men at the clinic couldn't have caught up so fast. Which means there were more of them hiding somewhere. _Damn it_. Those sons of bitches are not joking around.

She stops, hiding behind a tree so she won't be an easy target, and then one of her attackers appears to her right. Caroline grinds her teeth, snarling at the guy like a beast, snapping his neck as though it were a twig. A second man comes, a crossbow aimed at her, but she's fast. Much faster than him. And stronger too. She takes the crossbow from him and hits him on the back of his head. There's a loud crack, a splash of blood, and then the guy drops to the floor. 

A third one appears — _For fuck's sake, seriously?!_ —, a good feet away, another crossbow pointed at her chest. He's too far for her to reach him before he can shoot. Magic it is, then. 

Before she can start chanting, however, someone whooshes in and breaks the guy's neck. He drops down like a sack of potatoes.

"Well," Rebekah says, hands on her hips and a smirk on her face. "I'm impressed."

Caroline lets out a sharp breath, her heart hammering away inside her chest. "I'm not."

"Who are they?"

"Witches."

Rebekah frowns, ready to shoot another question, but they hear shouting, branches crackling, not far.

"Won't they freaking give up already?!" she growls.

"Run. Get out of here," Rebekah commands, and when Caroline hesitates, afraid to leave her alone against lord knows how many of them, she screams, " _Now_!"

But there's no time. There's another whooshing sound of an arrow cutting the air, and then Rebekah lets out a strangled cry before dropping to the ground.

" _Rebekah!"_

Caroline starts towards her, but she feels a sharp pain on her shoulder, something piercing flesh and shattering bone. Then her world goes suddenly white and she doesn't see anything anymore.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Klaus is going to _kill_ her.

If her brother still had the daggers, Rebekah is certain she'd be looking the next 150 years tucked away in a box. Since he doesn't, his revenge will likely be a lot more painful.

Caroline is gone. The witches took her and Rebekah has no idea where or how long ago it was, doesn't even know where to start looking. 

She woke up in the middle of the woods with a wooden stake in her chest, totally alone. The last thing she remembers before desiccating is Caroline screaming her name. It's unlikely that she managed to get away. Rebekah tried to follow her tracks, but got lost pretty fast. She may have heightened senses, but she's not a wolf. The only way to track her down would be through smell.

Which is why she had to call Klaus.

And he is going to _kill_ Rebekah for letting Caroline go to a clandestine clinic with a bunch of witches all on her own.

How the hell was she to guess the witches secretly wanted Caroline dead? They were supposed to be allies. Elijah made a deal with those traitorous vermins, and they've upheld their side of the bargain so far, however unorthodox Klaus' methods may be.

_Elijah_.

The thought of facing his disappointment scares Rebekah far more than facing Klaus' wrath. She made him a promise that she'd keep Caroline safe and barely two hours later the girl may already be dead. How could Rebekah be so easily beaten by a bunch of witches who can't even use their magic? _Juvenile_. Elijah is never going to forgive her.

Maybe she should give the daggers back to Klaus. This way he can put her out of her misery quickly and she won't have to be there when Elijah finds out she's the one responsible for the end of all his hope.

When she realizes she'll never find Caroline and the rest of the witches, Rebekah backtracks and returns to the clinic, see if she can get any clues, but there's nothing and no one there anymore, except for Caroline's car and the passed out doctor. She doesn't know exactly what happened, but has a feeling the woman isn't completely innocent. If this was a trap, she was in on it. There's a needle still stuck in her neck, and she can bet Caroline was the one to do it. Whatever it is, it's strong. The woman's heartbeats are incredibly slow. It takes a lot of self-control for Rebekah not to finish her off as she deserves, but she leaves it to Klaus to decide the doctor's fate. It'll surely be far worse than anything Rebekah could ever come up with and for once she won't disagree with Klaus. That bitch deserves to suffer for turning on a pregnant lady.

There's a whooshing sound and when she turns around, Klaus is there, standing by the door with murder in his eyes.

She considers thanking him for abandoning his quest for power to help his family, but realizes before opening her mouth that he's not gonna take lightly to that kind of commentary.

"Who took her?" he asks, voice deceptively calm, but cold as ice.

"Witches."

"What witches?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I don't know," she repeats, slowly. "I had an arrow in my heart."

A snarl crosses Klaus' face, but before he can start throwing accusations her way, wolves start howling outside.

"Lovely," Rebekah scoffs. "Witches, vampires and now the werewolves are in on it as well. Do you think maybe your cousins know where she is?"

She brushes by her brother to see what's the deal with the wolves, but when she opens the door, Caroline is there. All disheveled and dirty, with blood stains on her face and clothes, like she's been lost in the Bayou for a week. She can barely stand, tripping over her own legs.

Before Rebekah can go to her aid, Klaus is pushing past her so fast it's a blur, his hands on Caroline’s shoulder to steady her. 

"What happened?" he asks, a desperate edge on his voice. "Tell me what happened."

Caroline blinks lazily. "I don't remember."

Klaus pulls her closer, inspecting the large blood splatter on her shirt. "You're completely healed," he says. "There's not a scratch on you."

"I..." Caroline starts, stops, looking down at herself as though she is just as confused as Klaus to realize she isn't injured.

"Leave her alone." Rebekah elbows Klaus out of the way and takes Caroline's arm, guiding her to sit down on the steps in front of the clinic. She looks knackered, the poor girl. And so very confused.

"Who healed you?" Klaus asks, eyes still raking her up and down in search of something he might have missed.

"It's the baby," Rebekah says, her ears capturing the baby's heartbeat. "It's part werewolf and it's got vampire blood. Your own child healed you."

Caroline exchanges a quick glance with Klaus, her eyebrows knitting as though asking if that's even possible. Her brother's silence is all the answer she needs. Rebekah doesn't mention what she saw in the woods, the way Caroline battled those guys who were at least twice her size without using any magic, because Klaus doesn't need any more reason to freak out. But it was not normal, and now Rebekah understands why. The baby is feeding Caroline its powers through the blood they share. Healing her, making her strong like a werewolf. Rebekah wouldn't be surprised to find out her witchy powers have grown as well.

"How did you escape? Outnumbered, unarmed." she asks.

Caroline's gaze becomes distant for a moment. "I think... I think it might've been... A wolf." Her frown deepens.

"Your baby is a wolf, too. They're trying to protect her."

"The witches were supposed to protect you," Klaus roars. "When I get my hands on Sophie Deveraux -"

"It wasn't Sophie," Caroline cuts in. "It was Agnes."

"Sophie, Agnes. It's all the same to me. I'll slaughter the lot of them."

"Not if Elijah gets there first." 

"Elijah?" Caroline turns to face Rebekah. "You found him?"

"Yes. And I spoke to him. He has a plan. All he asked is that we take care of you."

Klaus' face stills and sets, his mouth drawing into a displeased move. Rebekah has a sudden feeling that Marcel's uneasiness might not have been the only reason why he daggered Elijah.

"So, uhm," Caroline starts. "Can we go home now? I think I need to sleep for a week."

When Caroline stands up, her face becomes pale, her eyes unfocus and she's about to drop, but Klaus is there before Rebekah can even think.

"I've got you, love," he coos softly as he puts his arms under her and lifts her off the ground, concern etched onto every line of his face as he carries her back to the car.

There's something in the picture Rebekah's missing, she's certain of it. But she stores it for later. Right now, they have more important things to worry about. Like what the hell are those witches really up to.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Caroline stays in the bathtub until the water gets cold.

Her body is all healed up, but it's as though she can still feel it in her soul. Sustaining the powers of a werewolf/vampire hybrid in a very human body is straining. She keeps touching the spot where the arrow pierced flesh and bone on her shoulder, the memory of pain still vivid in her mind. 

She puts a hand on her still almost non-existent belly, wondering how can something so tiny be so powerful.

Her poor baby... Not even born yet and already she has to fight for her life, saving her mother's ass to survive.

And the witches...

She trusted Agnes. That bitch went to her house pretending to be concerned for her child's well being and then tried to have her killed. If Caroline wasn't feeling so exhausted, so emotionally drained, she'd go snap that old rag's neck herself. After beating down two men with her bare hands, something tells her she can crush Agnes with her fingertips.

And she was annoyed by the excessive calmness of her first few weeks at the plantation... She takes it back. Now all Caroline wants is to be left in peace for the next six and a half months. 

She gets out of the tub, puts on a fluffy robe and goes back to her room, looking forward to 15 straight hours of sleep, but when she returns to her room, Klaus is there.

"Thought you might be hungry," he says tentatively, nodding towards a tray on the nightstand. There's a tall glass of juice, a large chunk of brie cheese and some jam. Caroline can't help the smile that creeps onto her face. She's been adding cheese and jam frequently to the list of things for him to get her, but she didn't know he knew she was having it together, just jam on a piece of cheese like it's a toast. It's her first pregnancy craving. Apparently Klaus has been paying more attention than he lets on. 

Unfortunately, just the sight of food makes Caroline's stomach roil with nausea.

"Thanks," she says. "But I don't think I can eat anything right now."

Klaus nods. "Are you all right?"

She grins, cocking her head to the side. "You don't have to stand guard. I'm feeling better."

A shadow crosses Klaus' face. Caroline can hear his teeth clenching. "I let those witches get too comfortable," he mumbles. "Come into my house, lure you out to the Bayou... I should've never trusted them."

"It's not your fault, Klaus," she says, softly. "I trusted them, too. It never crossed my mind that Agnes would..." she trails off, shaking her head dejectedly. 

"If that witch knows what's good for her, she'll leave the city tonight, go very, _very_ far and never return."

The barely veiled threat sends a shiver up Caroline's spine. Normally, Klaus' way of dealing with everything through violence would bother her, but not now. Agnes didn't just try to kill her, she tried to kill her baby. She deserves whatever revenge Klaus cooks up for her.

"Where were you?" she asks, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

"The Quarter. Trying to win Davina's trust."

"You met her?"

He nods. "As Camille said, she attended the music festival at the French Quarter tonight. I think I might've swayed her inclinations."

"Wow. That's huge. If Marcel doesn't have Davina on his side, he can no longer control the witches. Although... I'm not so certain that's a good thing anymore."

"Yes, it is huge. But not as huge as you getting attacked by a mob of angry witches in the middle of the Bayou."

"I had quite a day," Caroline says around a sigh. "Before the doctor tried to stab me with a needle, I actually got to hear my — _our_ baby's heart, for the first time." A genuine smile breaks way onto her face. "It's so strong."

"I know," Klaus says, his eyes moving to her belly for just a second.

"Right," Caroline nods. "I keep forgetting you can hear it all the time." She places a hand on her stomach, her eyes becoming distant for a moment, thoughtful. "It's amazing, isn't it? How something so small can be so... resilient. She’s strong."

Klaus smiles, flashing her his dimples. "I'm not surprised. She's your daughter, after all."

"Yours too." It's hard not to notice the shift in Klaus' eyes. Still haunted, still dark, but intense and warm. However strained their relationship might be at the moment, however distant Klaus might feel, they have something compelling between them, something bigger than anything she might want from him. Something that binds them. While everything and everyone seem to conspire to drive them apart, making her think that there cannot be two more dissimilar beings in this universe than the two of them, this — the child they've made together — transcends all differences. "We made something pretty special, didn't we? Completely bonkers. But special."

"Yes, we have," Klaus says, giving her a look that lasts for a bit too much, and then she has to look away, feeling her cheeks start to blush.

"I think I need to lie down for a bit now."

"Of course."

Klaus makes it to take the tray, but Caroline stops him. "Leave it. I might get weird cravings in the middle of the night."

He nods, smiling. "If you need anything else..." he trails off.

"Thank you," Caroline says, earnestly. "Not just for the food, but... For carrying me home. That was kind of embarrassing."

"No need to thank me. Not yet. Wait until I bring you Agnes' head on a silver platter."

"All right, TMI." Caroline waves a hand in front of her face. "I'm already feeling nauseous as it is."

Klaus stays there for an awkward moment longer, almost like he doesn't know what to do, then gives up and says, "Good night, love."

Caroline watches as he shuts the door behind him, wishing for just a minute that things could be different between them, that she could go back to that night in Mystic Falls, where everything fell into place, made perfect sense. She could really use the company. But alas... It's not to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I got a couple of comments asking about this, I need to clarify something, in case this chapter didn't make it clear. Guys, it's not gonna be twins. They've been listening to heartbeats since the first chapter, and the witches know. It's a girl, just one. I'm sorry if that's disappointing, but I did mention I was going to keep things as close to canon as possible. So no twins.
> 
> I feel like this is a good time to remind you all that this is The Originals season 1. I made a long warning about this before chapter 1 so you knew exactly what to expect from this story. Keep that in mind.


	5. S01E05 Sinners and Saints

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much to everyone who has been reading this story and stopping by to drop me a note! Your support means the world to me and it truly does keep me motivated to continue on with this little monster of a story. You guys rock!
> 
> And keep 'em coming, please! Your feedback and comments and reviews give me LIFE! So if you do enjoy this, and if you still want me to keep going, please, let me know! :) Depending on how this chapter is received, because it's such short one, I might have a quicker update.
> 
> As always, I ask you to apologize me for any mistakes you might find. Keep in mind that this isn't my first language and I'm trying my best.

Klaus doesn't bother with politeness before tearing Sophie Deveraux away from the kitchen at Rousseau's and dragging her back to the plantation house kicking and screaming and begging for forgiveness on the back seat of his car.

"Shut up," he tells her when he can no longer bear to hear her shrill voice. "Save your excuses for when we get to the house. And you better hope they're good ones. I may not be able to hurt you, but I've got half a mind to leave you without a coven."

Whatever Sophie Deveraux may be, she's definitely not stupid. Can certainly read a room - or a car, in this case - and recognize a real threat when she hears one. For the rest of the ride, she remains obediently silent.

If it had been up to him, he would've gone to the Quarter in the middle of the night to find her. This interrogation would've happened long ago. It was Rebekah who stopped him. "Caroline needs to rest," his sister said. "And she should listen to what Sophie has to say. She's the one who got attacked. This can wait until morning."

"What if they escape?" Klaus challenged. "What if Sophie and her merry band of leeches go into hiding? She's still connected to Caroline, lest you forget. We cannot let them out of our sight."

"I don't think Sophie will. But if she does," Rebekah shrugged. "We'll just hunt down every last one of them, lock Sophie up until we figure out a way to end this nonsense and eat the others for lunch. I could use a good game of hide & seek & kill the witches."

Now _that_ was something Klaus could work with. He almost wished he hadn't found Sophie this morning, just so he'd feel justified when witches started dropping like flies around him. But alas, Sophie showed up for work like it was just another day and she had absolutely nothing to hide. It just sparked Klaus’ anger further.

She must've felt every one of Caroline's wounds, must've shared her pain. How can she act so casually when she knows very well her own people endangered the mother of his child whom she had promised to protect?

"We had a deal," he snarls as he pushes Sophie into a chair on his living room, Rebekah and Caroline with him. "You protect Caroline and my unborn child, I dismantle Marcel's army. And whilst I've been busy fulfilling my part of the bargain, Caroline was attacked and nearly killed by a gaggle of lunatic witches."

"I had nothing to do with it, I _swear_ ," Sophie says, looking at him instead of at Caroline, who she should be apologizing to. "Caroline and I are linked, remember? She dies, I die."

"I told you it wasn't her," Caroline offers.

"Then who were they?" Klaus demands.

"They're a faction of extremists," Sophie explains. "Sabine stupidly told them about some vision she had about the baby."

"I'm sorry - _what_?" Caroline cuts in. "Sabine never mentioned anything about a vision."

Klaus sits down on the couch opposite Sophie, leaning forward, his voice low and dangerous as he says, "What kind of vision?"

"She has them all the time. It was through one of her visions we were able to locate Caroline. But they're totally open to interpretation."

Caroline sits up straighter, fidgeting a little. "And what did she see?"

"She doesn't always get things right. I'm guessing she's wrong on this one."

"Stop stalling, Sophie. Answer the bloody question," Rebekah demands. "How was this particular vision interpreted?"

The witch takes a deep breath, pursing her lips. "Pretty much that your baby would bring death to all witches."

"What?!" Caroline jumps from her seat, all indignation. "That's absurd!"

Klaus smirks. "Well, I grow fonder of this child by the second."

" _I'm_ a witch," Caroline says, glaring at him. Klaus just shrugs nonchalantly. He's never been a fan of witches. They're hard to negotiate with and always have an ulterior motive. Klaus would say he's learned over the long course of his life to never trust them, but the truth is he's learned that lesson long before he even became a vampire. They can be far more dangerous and deceptive than any vampire or werewolf. Sophie's coven has proved him right yet again.

He does, however, make an exception for Caroline. And _only_ Caroline.

"That is exactly what I told them," Sophie agrees. "Your child is at least part witch as well."

"Just how extreme is this faction, exactly?" Rebekah inquires. "We need to know what we're up against."

"Well... I wasn't always an advocate for the witches. I was away from New Orleans for a long time, didn't really want to have anything to do with the coven. I haven't always agreed with their policies. But things got a lot worse when my sister told me they'd taken a vote and had decided to perform the harvest ritual."

"What the bloody hell is that?”

"It's a ritual our coven does every three centuries so that the bond to our ancestral magic is restored. We appease the ancestors and they keep our ancestral power flowing. It's like renewing a contract so the source of our magic won't dry out."

"I spent two hundred years in this city. Why haven't I heard of this before?" Klaus asks.

"Because the harvest always seemed like a myth, a story passed down through generations like Noah's ark - the kind some people take literally and some people don't. I didn't."

"And what does that ritual entail?" Caroline asks. If she doesn't know, then it can't be a universal ritual for witches. It's something specific to New Orleans and its covens.

Sophie swallows, averting their gazes. "They choose four girls from our community and prepare them for the harvest. They say it's an honor, that they are special... And I thought it was a myth."

"Was it?" Caroline presses when Sophie seems to stutter.

Just as she's about to answer, Klaus' phone rings.

"Marcel," he says, taking the call. "Bit early in the day for you, isn't it?"

"I know I make this look easy, but I've got an empire to run," his former protégé says on the other end. _Tosser_.

"Rather you than me. All that responsibility seems like such a bore," Klaus says, wounding an affected sigh.

"Well, this might spice things up. I just heard about a bunch of dead witches out in the Bayou. The kind of damage a werewolf might do. I have an informant out there I need to meet and I would love for you to go with me."

Klaus fixes his eyes on Caroline. "Dead witches in the Bayou. Sounds less like a problem and more like cause for celebration." He smirks when she rolls her eyes at him.

"Something killed them and may still be out there, and with your blood the only known cure for werewolf bite, I would love to have you there."

 _Of course_ , Klaus thinks. Marcel's invitation is not a show of friendship, just a convenience in case they end up getting attacked by whatever wolf is causing trouble in the countryside.

Klaus _hates_ to be used, but having a chance to prove himself vital to Marcel is not entirely a bad thing. Becoming part of his inner circle takes Klaus one step closer to demolishing his defenses and taking him down for good. Normally, he has no patience for this kind of slow burn revenge. But his current circumstances are extraordinary, he thinks, looking at Caroline again. Some sacrifices are required.

"Why not?" he replies. "I haven't been to the Bayou in ages. I'm on my way."

"Do you really need to talk about witches like that?" Caroline demands when he hangs up, judgement written on every line of her expression.

Klaus resists the automatic urge to twitch the corners of his lips into a sneer. "The less reason to suspect you, love, the better. Don't worry. I make an exception for you."

She scoffs, shaking her head.

"You can't take Marcel out there right now," Sophie says with urgency on her voice. "I need to gather the witches' remains and consecrate them. If I don't get to them before sundown, we lose the link to their magic."

"That sounds terribly like something I couldn't care less about. Those witches tried to kill Caroline, they deserve no less than eternal damnation."

"I know, but -"

"And I would prefer for Marcel's informant not to end up running into anything or anyone that could lead him back to us. To her," he points to Caroline. "Or, you know. To _that_."

"Wow!" Caroline snorts. "Real classy, Klaus. It's a _baby_. You can say it. It's not a bad word."

He sends her a pointed look and puts on his jacket. "Stay put, all of you. I'll be back to hear the rest of that story."

Sophie starts whining again, but he doesn't stay to listen, just grabs his car keys and heads off to meet Marcel.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

There was once a time when Marcel used to think Klaus was nothing short of a god.

He was powerful. Cunning. Knew how to bend absolutely everyone to his will, even his most stubborn detractors. And those who refused - well. They never lived to tell the story. There was absolutely nothing Klaus Mikaelson couldn't get. If he wanted to rule the world, he would.

Marcel worshipped the ground he walked on. He loved Klaus. He feared Klaus. And he wanted to _be_ Klaus.

He was the closest thing to a family Marcel ever had. A sirer, a mentor. Sometimes even a father. He had a thing for punishments - no one defied Klaus and walked away freely. Marcel felt the burn of Klaus' hatred many times. But, at the end of the day, all was forgiven. They were family, after all. Until they weren't anymore.

When the Mikaelsons were forced to flee New Orleans, for a while there Marcel didn't know what had happened to them. It didn't seem like anybody could escape Mikael's wrath. The man left a trail of destruction wherever he went and it wasn't different in the Crescent City. He butchered half of Klaus' allies, burned down a crowded theater, killing hundreds of people and ruining a landmark in Bourbon street. The charred skeleton of the Opera House stayed intact for many decades until Marcel decided it was time to erase the stain the Mikaelson family had left in New Orleans and rebuild it in the 60s. It's a hotel now, but to him it'll always be the sight of a tragedy. The place where he almost died. The place where he became a new man.

He laid low for a few years, afraid that Mikael would come back to finish what he'd started if he learned Marcel had walked out alive. He never heard a single word about the siblings. Klaus and Rebekah went radio silent, and Elijah, as far as he knew, had fled to Europe. As time passed and the city's community spiraled out of control, with wars raging left and right between the factions, determined never to trust one another again after Mikael, Marcel decided someone had to take over the helm of the ship. And that's exactly what he did.

He was born in New Orleans. He died in New Orleans. The city was his to take. He learned from the best, after all. But it didn't take long for Marcel to realize that he didn't just want to be Klaus anymore. His ruling had been imperfect, had left an opening for tragedy to strike. What Marcel wanted was to be _better_.

His New Orleans is nothing like Klaus'. Klaus didn't trust anyone but his own family, and even that was debatable.

He was a tyrant. Marcel is a king.

And now all those years after they left, never bothering to come back to see what had become of the place they now call _home_ , they return expecting Marcel to roll out the red carpet, ready to _steal_ everything Marcel worked so hard to build from the ashes they left behind.

_Oh no, they won't._

He knows their ways. Turns out, Klaus is not as smooth as Marcel remembered. Or maybe it's just that Marcel can see more clearly now that he’s been freed of the blind loyalty he once had.

His _hero_ is a thief. And not even a good one at that.

Klaus thinks himself so clever, so subtle, that Marcel can't tell that he has his eyes set on Davina. He thinks she's a _weapon_ to be stolen. And that's the difference between him and the Mikaelsons right there; they have no humanity left in them. Selfish to the last strand of Viking hair on their heads.

Yes, Davina has been a huge boost to Marcel's rule over the city. The witches were always causing him trouble here and there, but he knew how to work around them. The failed harvest ritual not only weakened them, but it gave Marcel an unexpected ally. All he has to do now is wait for the deadline to be over and the witches of New Orleans will never have their power back, which means Marcel won't ever, _ever_ have to worry about them again. And neither will Davina, whom he has sworn to protect.

He didn't save her because he wanted a powerful subject. He saved her because she's a kid. Because what those witches were doing to those girls was murder. He's only sorry he didn't get there in time to help the other three. He can still remember the way they screamed as the people they trusted the most in the world, their leaders, their mentors, who were supposed to groom and protect them, slit their throats. Davina was shaking in his arms as he took her away. So young and already she'd seen so much tragedy. Abandoned by her family, almost murdered by her coven and now confined to a glass tower. Marcel never asked her to monitor the witches, she did it out of her own will, because she didn't want to be found. She knew if the witches could do magic, it wouldn't take long before they got to her. And when they did...

The ban on magic was a way to keep Davina safe. She's not a weapon; she's family. He'd rather die than let that girl fall on Mikaelsons' hands to be used as a prop. Except Klaus is determined to find her and he will stop at nothing. Marcel's blind admiration may have died, but he's not stupid to underestimate an Original. Especially one who has been bolstered up.

Klaus was dangerous as a vampire; as a _hybrid_ , he's lethal. The silver daggers don't work on him, the white oak is gone, he now has all the extra strength of a werewolf and a bite that will take down any vampire in a matter of hours. Klaus Mikaelson truly is invincible.

One thing that hasn't changed, though, is his arrogance. Another 100 years on his back since he left the city with his tail between his legs and he's learned absolutely nothing on humility and camaraderie. Being chased out of his city by his own father didn’t get him thinking about his own wrong ways for s single minute, it seems. If anything, Klaus is worse than ever, still thinking the whole wide world is there for the taking, and that the city of New Orleans has some kind of debt of honor to him. The ego of that bastard...

What Marcel can’t understand is why Klaus has been beating around the bushes when he could simply declare war, attack his vampires, force him to bend the knee and hand over the keys to the compound. He could certainly do it, especially with Elijah and Rebekah by his side. Why would he hand over his own brother as a _sign of peace_ if that's clearly not what he's after? Why pretend to be friends? It doesn't make any sense. It’s not in Klaus’ nature to stall. The man Marcel knew always cut to the quick, preferably through violence.

But if that's the game he wants to play, Marcel is all in.

First, however, he needs to figure out how to get Davina out of the city.

He was going to do it today. The news about the dead witches was disturbing, but not enough to kill Marcel's plans. It was clearly a dispute with the wolves, and honestly, that's a fight Marcel wants no part in. They can kill each other for all he cares. The one thing the vampires and the witches have always seemed to agree on is their disregard for the werewolves. A nasty bunch, those ones. Salvages.

There were no wolves among the dead, according to the informant, which is a shame. Something's cooking up in the Bayou and he can't really put his finger on it. First a werewolf shows up in the city, the vampires he sends to investigate all disappear, and now this. He's willing to bet money that the Mikaelsons are somehow involved. They show up in town and in a matter of weeks all hell starts to break lose. There is no such thing as coincidences where that family is involved.

There's more to the Mikaelsons' grand return to New Orleans than meets the eye, and Marcel is getting to the bottom of it. But Davina comes first.

While Klaus and Rebekah thought they were distracting him, he was in truth distracting them while his extraction plan was put on course. They were all set to go, with his best men ready to escort them and a car waiting outside to get her to a safe house that belongs to a trusted friend in Tennessee. But when he tried to get Davina out of the church...

Marcel has no idea what was that. The whole building started to shake. For a moment there he thought it was all going to come crashing down over their heads. It made no sense. Davina left the church just the day before to attend the music festival and nothing happened. Maybe the ancestors know that he's trying to get her out of the city, and if that happens, their chances of getting their ritual completed in time become almost null.

So they were forced to abort. Davina felt weak and sick, so he took her back to the attic, put her in bed. But there _has_ to be a way. A bunch of dead spirits can't have that much control over the land of the living. Marcel hasn’t given up yet; the plan was just momentarily put on hold.

He knew sooner or later he'd have to deal with a pouting Klaus. He's smart, of course he figured out Marcel had been stalling him. He just didn't expect to find Klaus waiting for him at the compound as soon as he got back. Didn't even give him time to have a drink first.

"Taking me on a field trip to the Bayou to distract me," Klaus says from the second floor railing. Always so dramatic. "Pathetic and obvious. I taught you better than that."

"You taught me to protect what's mine. I'm on to you, Klaus. You'll not take Davina from me, end of story. I saved that girl's life and I promised I'd keep her safe. That's exactly what I'm going to do. Keep her safe from _you_."

"An immutable law of nature, Marcel, is that the strong always takes from the weak."

"If you were so strong you wouldn't have run away from New Orleans like a little bitch all those years ago."

Marcel sees in Klaus' dark eyes the moment when the blow lands. His lips curl up into a snarl and, before Marcel can even get out of the way, Klaus jumps from the second floor, a fist connecting with his jaw and sending him flying across the courtyard. Marcel sees stars as his face explodes in pain.

 _Fuck_ , that hurt...

It had been a while since he'd faced someone strong enough to take him like that. Let alone someone as strong as Klaus.

"You've been playing king with a bunch of children for too long, Marcellus. Don't mistake me for one of your nightwalker lackeys. I can take Davina any time I like," he says, his eyes flashing gold.

Marcel gets back on his feet, tasting blood on his tongue. He might get his ass kicked, but it'll be good to see what exactly he's dealing with here, how strong Klaus has become. This fight has been building up for way too long. They should have it all out in the open, stop pretending to be old pals. At least they'll keep it honest for once.

Just as Marcel prepares to charge, someone rounds him from behind and he gets kicked back down. He's pretty sure one of his ribs just cracked.

"Do forgive me, Marcel." He lifts his head as much as the pain on his torso will allow to have a look at the newcomer. _Elijah_. How the hell did he get out of the attic? A wave of panic rushes right through him. _Davina_.

Elijah smiles, fixing his cuffs and looking straight at Klaus. "If anyone is to teach my brother a lesson, it's going to be me."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline has spaced out forgotten to come back about ten minutes ago. She's staring straight out into nothing, the book she was reading completely abandoned on her lap, tipping dangerously close to falling off her knees.

For lack of anything better to do, Rebekah has been watching her.

Caroline wanted to go against Klaus’ orders and return to the Bayou with Sophie - according to her, to find out what _really_ happened the night she got abducted. Her memory is still a bit jagged, but she seems convinced that it was a werewolf that saved her life and killed the witches.

Rebekah had to threaten her with a leash for her to give up and sit still. It's unbelievable that she would be that persistent after what happened. Klaus would kill both of them if he knew she'd gone back to the scene of her near murder knowing that Marcel had informants circling the area. For once, her crazy brother had a point, and a good one at that.

Sophie, obviously, hadn’t listened. Called Rebekah all desperate because she was spotted and Marcel was going to find out she had something to do with the massacre and, at the very least, take her in for questioning. And by questioning she meant torture. That's how Marcel gets them to confess to all their so called _crimes_. And of course anything the vampires did to Sophie, they'd be doing to Caroline. So Sophie's problem was now their problem, too. Those bloody witches...

Rebekah called Klaus to inform him Marcel's guy was heading back to the biker bar to tell on Sophie and her brother asked her to drop by to distract their old friend while he dealt with the problem. Rebekah didn't think it would be an issue; just sit there, flirt a little, unearth some awkward memories... Child's play, honestly. She couldn't have predicted that it would end up messing her up so much. Apparently, said awkward memories affect her much more than she would've liked to believe. And certainly a lot more than they affect Marcel.

He'd been playing both of them, almost like he knew exactly what Klaus would do. Marcel read straight through their cover, turned their plot on its head against the two of them and left them like two idiots at that stupid biker bar while he flashed away to god knows where. Her brother was certain it had something to do with Davina, so he went after Marcel in the French Quarter while she returned home to make sure Caroline wouldn't decide to go on an adventure all by herself again, with Marcel's guys all on the lookout for unusual movement.

A thousand years old and serving as babysitter to a grown up pregnant woman.

The things she won't do for Elijah.

"You're distracted," Rebekah finally says, getting fed up with the silence. It takes Caroline a second too long to register she was spoken to. "What's on your mind?"

"I was thinking about the wolf." _Of course_ , Rebekah thinks, instantly regretting having asked.

"Don't you have anything more interesting to occupy your pretty head with than werewolves?"

"Are you not even the least bit curious? Last night wasn't a full moon, Rebekah."

"Oh." She hadn't thought about that. “Well, I suppose that makes it curious. But still not compelling enough."

"I just can't understand why werewolves would come to my rescue."

"What is there to understand? You're carrying a baby wolf in your tum. They were being protective of their own."

"But that's not how werewolves work. They care for their packs. My baby is not part of their pack. Unless..."

"Unless?" Rebekah prods.

"Do you think it's possible that they're connected? The baby and he werewolves in the Bayou. Through Klaus? Is there any chance of them being related, somehow?"

"Hell if I know," Rebekah shrugs, getting up to pour herself a drink. She's not gonna be dragged into this conversation without an alcoholic incentive.

"Don't you know who his father was?"

"We found out eventually," she says dismissively, sipping from her glass of bourbon. She pours one for Caroline, and then remembers that pregnant women can't drink when the witch arches an eyebrow at her. Rebekah sighs and turns the drink in her own glass. What a torture. "But that was a long time ago and I'm pretty sure he was killed back in our day. I don't think we can determine at this point whether current werewolf packs are related to Nik's father. And it doesn't matter, anyway. If they're willing to protect you, who cares?"

"I care."

"Why?"

"Because they saved my life and I don't even know who to send a thank you card to. I was all on my own out there."

Rebekah chugs back the rest of her drink, putting the glass down with a thud. "Ok, first of all, family is a pain in the behind, if you ask me. So I wouldn't go searching for long lost relatives if I could help it. And as for being alone, how dare you? I don't ruin a perfectly fabulous pair of boots traipsing through the Bayou for just anyone."

When Caroline smiles, she smiles back, realizing that she actually means it. Elijah may have made her promise to protect Caroline, but she would've gone out there anyway.

The front door flies open and Klaus storms in.

"Nik!" Rebekah says. "Well, finally. I was -"

Her whining about Nik's lack of information dies in her lips when Elijah walks in right behind him. Then the thought completely vanishes from her mind; suddenly nothing else matters anymore.

Rebekah’s chest explodes with joy. She runs to him, wrapping her arms tight around her brother. "Elijah," she mutters affectionately, pulling away just enough to look him in the eye, to make sure it's really him and not a trick of her mind.

"You're safe," she says around a relieved breath. "I'm so glad."

"I'm glad too," he says with that charming crooked smile she loves so much. His hair is a little messy and his clothes are certainly rougher than his pristine style usually allows, but other than that, her brother looks perfect. Healthy, whole and home.

"Now that you're back, is your first plan to kill Niklaus?" she asks, grinning at her other brother. "I'll help."

Elijah places a tender kiss on her cheek. "Excuse me just a moment," he says, and then walks around her, disappearing down the hall.

"Where's he going?" she asks, a confused crease between her eyebrows.

Klaus’ face twists into a grimace. "Do you have to ask?"

 _Oh_.

Caroline was there just a second before, and now she isn't.

And neither is Elijah.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Elijah isn't sure yet what to expect from _home_. He was taken away before he even had a chance to experience a single day living under the same roof as Niklaus, and now Rebekah is there as well. If their brief reunion in Mystic Falls is anything to go by, this should be interesting.

But he is definitely happy to be out of that deplorable box, breathing something other than the stuffy air of that ancient attic.

Granted, he could've returned a long time ago. He awakened not long after Davina pulled the dagger out of his chest, ending the effect of the white oak ash it'd been dipped in. It was his choice to remain under the little witch's influence, studying her. Learning about her. Her story, her tastes, what she wants from life.

Elijah would have preferred not to be daggered and served as sacrificial lamb to his enemy, but Niklaus' impulsiveness might yet bring them rewards. Not that his brother will ever get a thank you, of course. The thought certainly did not occur his mind when he drove that dagger through Elijah’s chest.

The only reason why Elijah hasn't snapped Niklaus' neck and locked him up somewhere to mull over about his actions is precisely because being so close to Davina for such an extended period of time allowed him a glimpse into the girl's mind, and good intelligence on your adversary is everything in a war.

Not that he thinks they're fighting Davina. He doesn't, not anymore. She's just a pawn. Marcel may have had his heart in the right place when he chose to rescue her, but he's been using the girl all this time to his own selfish benefit.

Now that he's managed to come to an agreement of sorts with her, all Elijah needs to do is cement their friendship, prove to her that he can be trusted, and Marcel will no longer have his secret weapon at his disposal. Already she's given a demonstration of her support, fooling Marcel into thinking the spirits refused to let her out of the church. He was going to drive her out of town, but Davina's clever act forced his hand. She'll stay put for now, waiting on Elijah to fulfill his end of the bargain.

Without her, Marcel's power is considerably diminished. For starters, he won't be able to control the witches any longer. And that doesn't just mean Sophie Deveraux and her coven. It means Caroline, too.

Caroline… It feels odd to see her again in person when she occupied so much of his thoughts during the time he spent at the church. He didn't even realize she'd left such an impression on him until he wouldn't stop thinking of her. Wondering how she was. What she was doing. If Niklaus hadn't made her run away scared yet. He hoped not, and had some faith that it wouldn't be the case. She seemed to exert a kind of influence over Niklaus Elijah didn't really have time to unravel before he was put to sleep. And in any case, Caroline didn't strike him as the kind to run away from her problems, even the hybrid-sized ones. So he's not surprised to find her still there, in one piece, seemingly more at home than she was when he left. She's made herself comfortable.

 _Good,_ he thinks. Niklaus must have done something right.

Elijah was half expecting her stomach to have grown enormous since the last time he saw her, but she's still barely showing. She looks almost exactly the same. As beautiful as he remembered. And when their eyes meet and she smiles at him before quietly sneaking out, Elijah feels something light up inside. Caroline Forbes seems to have a weird effect on Mikaelson men.

As happy as he is to see Rebekah again, he feels almost like an invisible cord is pulling him when she leaves the room. So he excuses himself and follows, ignoring Niklaus' eyes burning holes on his back as he goes.

He finds her in the kitchen, fixing herself a snack. When she sees him by the door, she grins. "Oops," she says around a mouthful. "Busted."

"What are you doing?" Elijah asks, joining her by the counter.

"Experimenting with cheese and jam. Blueberry, raspberry, strawberry. All berries, really. I've been obsessed with cheese and jam. It's a pregnancy thing, I guess. Would you like some?"

"No, thank you," he declines, smiling. Barely a minute in her presence and he already remembers why he felt so drawn before. There's something so refreshing about her. Where his family always seems so gloomy, crushed under the weight of the darkness that seems to accompany them wherever they go, Caroline is just... Light. Easy. Two things that are so foreign to the Mikaelsons.

"Good," she says, spreading jam over a piece of cheese and taking a bite. "I was being polite but I don't really want you to have any. This is too good." Elijah can feel muscles he hadn't moved in ages on his face twisting as his smile grows. "And I'm also babbling. Those are basically my two favorite things as of late. Eat and talk, both nonstop. How are you, Elijah?"

"Glad to be home," he says with a grin. "Why did you sneak out?"

"I was hungry."

He gives her a pointed look, arching one eyebrow.

She looks away. "Well, I thought you three would like a moment. You know, as family."

"You are family now, Caroline."

"Oh." She smiles at Elijah the exact way he remembered in his long slumber, warm and open and like she really means it, except she seems far less suspicious now than she did all those weeks ago. Like a knot has been untied, or at least softened, while he was away.

"I'm glad you're ok," she says.

"I would like to know all about what I've missed. But first... There's something I need to tell you. All of you. Can you come with me, please?"

Caroline stuffs her mouth with a piece of cheese and nods, following him out of the kitchen.

There will be appropriate time for all the heartfelt greetings. First, he needs to share what he's uncovered from Davina.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline has a strange sensation at the pit of her stomach as she takes a seat in the study room.

It takes her a moment to understand it. They're including her. For the first time, they're not closing the door behind them and leaving her to eavesdrop outside as they decide the future - _her_ future - between themselves. She's been brought into the room, given a seat. Elijah has something important to say, something that can't wait until morning, and he wants her to be there to listen.

Klaus sitting to her left, Rebekah to her right, Elijah standing in front of them, a mask of seriousness descending upon what had been a warm and welcoming expression until about two minutes ago as he spoke to her in the kitchen. This is officially a family reunion.

_Family._

The word rings in her mind like a bell.

She wanted to be brought to the table, to have her voice heard, To be consulted about things, informed of developments and action plans; but to actually _be_ a Mikaelson... It's definitely new. She can't help but think about the people in Mystic Falls, what they'd have to say about this. Her mother would certainly be horrified. Life has certainly taken on a crazy turn.

It hadn't really downed on her until this very moment that, aside from being a werewolf and possibly a witch as well, her daughter is also a Mikaelson. Half a Mikaelson, but still. Caroline may have an honorary - likely temporary as well - place in the family, but her daughter has Klaus' blood, which makes her one of them for life. What exactly that entails in the long run...

She’s not exactly sure she’s excited to find out just yet.

"What is it, Elijah?" Rebekah asks, clearly starting to get impatient.

He seems pensive for a second before he finally starts talking. "Everything that brought us here to New Orleans was a lie. This story that Sophie Deveraux fabricated, this struggle for control of the French Quarter... The war between vampires and witches wasn't over territory at all - it was over Davina."

"How so?" Klaus asks.

"Sophie had a personal involvement with the harvest ritual. She tried to stop it because her niece, Monique Deveraux, Jane-Anne's daughter, was one of the chosen girls and she didn't believe it was real. To satiate the ancestors, the girls had to be sacrificed so their powers would flow to them, before they could be resurrected. She thought her niece was going to die for nothing, so she assembled a rescue plan, with the help of Marcel and his vampires, but she was too late. When they got to the cemetery, three of the girls had already been sacrificed. The only one still alive was Davina. The girls had no idea they were going to be killed in such a violent manner, and they obviously became agitated and scared when the elder witches started slitting their throats unceremoniously. Davina was in panic, screaming. So Marcel saved her, stopped the ritual, but the other girls remained dead. When that happened, all their powers converged into the one surviving girl. Which is how Sophie learned that the harvest ritual was real, and it had worked. Only it was never completed."

"That explains how Davina is so powerful. A single witch would never have that kind of control over all the others on her own," Caroline muses.

"Precisely," Elijah agrees.

"So... What? The girls are dead, Davina lived. That still doesn't explain the part where they kidnap Caroline," Rebekah says.

"Eight months ago, Sophie Deveraux and Jane-Anne lost everything when Monique died. The only way for her to be brought back to life, along with the two other harvest girls, would be for Davina to be sacrificed, so the ritual can be completed. But under Marcel's protection, and as powerful as she became, there was no way they could ever get to her. It was to stop the ritual for good that Marcel instilled the ban on magic, so the witches couldn't locate Davina. That's why he keeps her hidden away in the attic. Now five months after Monique's death, word came to them through a vision about a pregnant girl in Mystic Falls and suddenly all their hope was renewed.

"Jane-Anne actually sacrificed her life so her sister could use you to remove Marcel from their path," Elijah says, looking at his brother. Klaus' lips twist into a scowl. "So they could get Davina. If Sophie is successful in capturing Davina, she can complete the ritual and return Jane-Anne's daughter back to life. If not... Not only will Monique Deveraux stay dead, but the French Quarter witches will have their link to their ancestors severed, and their magic will effectively die. We thought we'd come here to wage a war for power. This is about family."

"Those cunning little bitches," Rebekah mutters, shaking her head lightly. "They _manipulated_ our family to fight for them and didn't even give us a full disclaimer."

"Sophie Deveraux will do whatever it takes to return her niece to life. She'll use every weapon at her disposal. She's willing to fight until death, because she's already lost everything. And that makes her more dangerous than anyone."

Caroline feels as all eyes land on her. Elijah's soft, but concerned; Klaus' burning on her skin, possessive and angry; Rebekah's thoughtful and sympathetic. The greatest _weapon_ at Sophie's disposal, is, of course, her, through that magic link. And if she's willing to die for her cause... Well.

Had she stayed in Mystic Falls, things would probably not be exactly stellar for Caroline, being pregnant and everything. But at least her life, and that of her child, wouldn't be immediately endangered. She'd still have her mother, her friends - _her magic_.

Given just a little while longer to ponder over the situation, Caroline is going to be fuming as well for being used as a pawn in a game she has nothing to do with. She's been attacked twice already, and the very witches who brought her here to serve as bargaining chip in their attempt to get Klaus on their team have now changed their minds and decided to kill her and her baby.

Oh, Caroline is gonna get _very_ angry. They think Klaus is dangerous? They should see what she'll do to them if they dare to hurt her baby.

Right now, though, she has something else on the forefront of her mind. A question that's been nagging her all day.

If Sophie was wrong about the harvest ritual, and it turned out to be real... Then how does she know Sabine's vision about her daughter bringing the destruction of all witches isn't real too?

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am bringing the werewolves into the mix by making them related to Klaus rather than to Caroline (obviously). I wanted them to be a part of the story because they are a major motor behind a lot of the things that happen later on, and since Caroline isn't one of them, I had to find an alternative. Plus, Caroline used to date a werewolf, so you can say she's sympathetic. 
> 
> At some point in The Originals they really do find a pack that is related to Klaus, so I'm not going completely off-script here. I'll just completely change the history there and hopefully it'll be better explained when the appropriate time comes.


	6. S01E06 Fruit of the Poisoned Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised a quicker update, but I had a lot of trouble editing this chapter. :( I liked the first part a lot, and then the rest of it kind of ruined my life for a few days there. I'm really sorry! There are some important notes at the bottom about stuff. Please, read them once you're done with the story.
> 
> As always, I ask that you forgive my many mistakes. Hope you guys can enjoy this chapter 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading this story. <3 Your feedback, comments and messages mean so much to me! It's really the reason why I keep going with this, so thank you SO much! And please keep'em coming! I love to read your thoughts and know how you guys feel. :)

_"I was angry with my friend;  
I told my wrath, my wrath did end."_

It's quiet in the Mikaelsons' living room.

White noise fills up the empty space: the air conditioner Klaus had installed in Caroline's room, birds chirping outside, Rebekah's heels clicking against the hardwood floor as she saunters about the house. 

The sound of Elijah calmly flipping through the rough pages of the old grimoire he's been consulting all morning.

_"I was angry with my foe;  
I told it not, my wrath did grow."_

There's something very anticlimactic about the peacefulness following Elijah's return.

Klaus assumed his brother's lack of retaliation was down to exhaustion and the weight of the revelations he brought with him from his spell in the company of Davina Claire. There was a lot to be considered and mulled over. The story Elijah uncovered changes everything, starting with Klaus' disposition to aid those treasonous witches, which was not great to begin with after their attack on Caroline. Marcel's ban on magic is, for now, working in Sophie Deveraux's favor. It's the only thing keeping Klaus from finding a way to undo the connection between her and Caroline through an incantation that she would likely be able to perform herself. As it is, the risks associated with Marcellus finding out about her still trump the benefits. But not for long.

After his encounter with Davina, followed by the heartfelt conversation she's had with Elijah, Klaus is certain that they can persuade the witch to switch sides.

_"And I water'd it in fear_  
Night and morning with my tears.  
And I sunned it with smiles  
And it with soft deceitful wiles." 

Elijah has not advanced against him, but he has also barely spoken a word to Klaus. His peace offering benefaction has gone completely ignored.

To an outsider, the two of them are perfectly at ease. A more attentive observer, however, could easily sense the air thick with tension. His brother's mask of civility ends in his eyes, at once cold and hostile. He's angry, bitter, but uncharacteristically not acting on it.

If Klaus had to hazard a guess on why, he'd say his brother's reason for holding back answers by the name of Caroline Forbes.

The way Elijah's eyes sparkled when he saw her, how he followed her out of the room almost immediately, made Klaus' hands itch for a silver dagger.

_"And it grew both day and night_  
Till it bore an apple bright;  
And my foe behind it shine,  
And he knew that it was mine." 

Klaus' desire to be forgiven for his misbehavior finds pause in his brother's fast growing fascination with Caroline.

It's understandable that Elijah would be drawn to her, seeing that she carries in her womb all of his hopes and dreams for the future of their family. But that does not mean Klaus has to like it. It brings a sour taste to his mouth, as well as unpleasant memories of a story lived a thousand years before.

He'd fallen in love with Tatia first. And she'd encouraged his advances. Even implied that he might be her chosen one to remarry after the untimely death of her first husband. Until Elijah, ever valiant and regal, came into the picture.

Even before darkness had corrupted his soul he could never compete with Elijah.

It did not end well for either of them, or for poor Tatia.

Klaus is, of course, well and over all that. Their mother killed the object of their affection to avoid a war, in turn starting something much worse. But Klaus is not what he once was. Definitely not as forgiving. And Caroline is not Tatia.

It would do Elijah well to remember that.

_"And into my garden stole_  
When the night had veil'd the pole  
In the morning glad I see  
My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree." 

 

They exist in awkward silence in each other’s presence for the meanwhile - Elijah flipping through their mother's grimoire while Klaus rereads one of his favorite poems, quite appropriate for their current predicament.

He hears Caroline's approaching steps before she enters the room; he sees Elijah's eyes lifting from the pages of the grimoire for the first time in hours as soon as she does.

"What the hell?" She plants a hand on her hip, looking from Klaus to Elijah with indignant lines scribbled across her forehead. "Who the hell is that?"

Elijah sighs. " _That_ is a peace offering," his brother says, motioning vaguely towards the girl on the center table. Well, less a girl now than a corpse.

Feeling the inquire before it arises, Klaus adds, as means of explanation, "I presumed, after so much time desiccating in a coffin, that my big brother might be a bit peckish."

"So I explained to my little brother that forgiveness cannot be bought. I'd simply prefer to see a change in behavior that indicates contrition and personal growth, not this... nonsense," Elijah's lips curl distastefully.

Caroline scoffs in disbelief. "You two killed a girl to make peace? Are you freaking kidding me?"

"I didn't kill anyone," Elijah says, mindlessly turning another page.

Klaus shrugs. "I couldn't very well let her go to waste, could I?"

Caroline glares, her nostrils flaring as hot indignation takes over. "This is a _person_. With a family, and friends, and people who are going to miss her."

"Oh, here we go," Klaus sighs warily.

"You can't kill people for fun!"

"Trust me, love. Fun had absolutely nothing to do with it."

"And now she's bleeding all over a two hundred years old carpet!"

Elijah lifts his gaze to the girl again. The gash on her neck has leaked all over the table, her blood now pooling on the carpet underneath it. "Oh, yes," he says, sadly. "That's a shame."

Caroline grunts in annoyance, then takes a deep breath to recompose herself. "If I'm going to be living in this house, we need to have some ground rules. You can't bring snacks home. If you're going to feed, use blood bags like normal functioning vampires would, or do it far from here. I don't wanna have to wake up to dead girls on the freaking coffee table. _God_." 

With that she stalks away, banging doors as she goes. But Klaus wasn't watching her; he was watching Elijah.

His brother's eyes followed her as soon as she turned, an amused smile creeping onto his so far stoically grim expression. 

Almost immediately, Elijah puts down the grimoire and follows her through the door. 

Klaus' face twists into a scowl as he forces himself to sit still, however visibly agonized. They just got Elijah back. It won't do them any good to start cracking the family's unit so soon. They should stick together for what lies ahead. If anything than at least for Caroline's sake. However unfavorable her proximity to his brother might be, she has clearly taken a liking to him, will probably not be too happy if Klaus starts yet another uprising against Elijah. 

They're an island, surrounded by enemies on all sides. He needs Elijah. It'd be incredibly stupid of him to cultivate hard-feelings born out of jealousy at this moment. 

Which is not to say there won't be time to address the issue later.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Living with the Original family is going to be even more of a challenge than Caroline first imagined, and her expectations weren't that great to begin with.

As much as she's used to being around vampires, finding dead bodies around the house is one thing that won't ever get old. She keeps forgetting that there are ruthless predators under those pretty packages. Their general disregard for human life is in their very nature. Tyler almost lost his mind after he accidentally triggered his curse, but somehow, after Klaus turned him, he just... Didn't care that much about death anymore. He said it was the hunger, that it was so overwhelming it silenced everything else, and the guilt only came later, dulled and distant. 

If you live long enough, she guesses, at some point the guilt just stops coming altogether.

As the oldest there is, Original vampires are _especially_ vicious. Even Elijah, with that mask of refinement and politeness. Didn't even bat an eyelid at the poor girl.

Caroline is not naive to believe that they are going to stop eating people just because it upsets her. But if she keeps finding corpses around the house, they're going to have a serious problem. Like they haven't more than enough of those already.

Great way to start her morning.

She doesn't even bother knocking before storming into Rebekah's bedroom, where the vampire is sorting through her clothes. At least _she_ hasn't been feeding on living people. Not that Caroline knows, anyway. And what Caroline can't see, she just pretends doesn't exist, for the sake of her sanity.

"Can you do something about the body in the living room?" she asks in a tone that makes it clear she's not really asking at all.

Rebekah frowns. "What body in the living room?"

"Your brothers' breakfast is lying on the coffee table right now," she replies, her mouth twitching into a grim smile.

"Oh. Is that what she was for? I saw when Nik brought her home, but I thought - Never mind." Rebekah cuts herself short at the look Caroline shoots her. It's bad enough that he seduced a girl to _eat_ her. Caroline can do without imagining what else might've happened there, thank you very much. 

"I don't have stomach for that and I'm _pregnant_ ," she says, drawing out the last word for emphasis. "Please?"

Rebekah sighs in defeat. "You have no qualms with playing low, do you?"

"None."

"Fine."

"Thank you."

All that stress so early in the morning has made her hungry, so she marches down to the kitchen and starts rummaging through the cabinets after the box of cereals she's certain she asked Klaus to buy a few days ago. It's ironic that all that blood has worked up an appetite instead of making her nauseous. She wonders if that has anything to do with the baby, and if so, how worried exactly she should be.

"Good morning."

She turns around to find Elijah standing by the door, smiling affably at her.

"Not that good," she says tersely, finally locating her Cheerios.

"I apologize for the unfortunate scene you were made to witness. I keep forgetting that you're not one of us." After a beat, he adds, "A vampire, I mean."

"No, I'm not," Caroline smiles wanly, pouring cereal and milk in a large bowl. "But I'm used to your kind and I have _opinions_ on your disregard for human life."

"It won't happen again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Elijah", she says, stabbing her cereal with a spoon and eating a mouthful. "We both know it will. You do this like it's nothing. We're all just food to you."

Elijah approaches the island, holding her gaze with an earnestness in his eyes that makes it impossible for Caroline to look away. "That's not true." 

Caroline can hear the subtext that goes unsaid - _You're not food_. And she truly believes Elijah means it wholeheartedly, but it's not the point. Even if they would never hurt her - and, to a certain degree, she believes none of them would, at least for the time being - they would still not hesitate to hurt _everyone else_ , which does nothing to appease her mood.

"Can you just... Do this somewhere else? Somewhere I won't accidentally trip over a dead body or wake up to a pool a blood on the living room carpet?" _So I can at least pretend I'm not living with a bunch of psychopaths_ , she doesn't mention.

"Of course," he nods.

"Much appreciated."

"I hope my siblings were hospitable toward you in my absence. Unpleasant dinner parties aside," he says, grinning.

"Well, let's see." Caroline stuffs her mouth with cereal and pretends to think while she munches on it. "In your absence, as you like to call it, which is a polite way of saying your brother put a dagger in your heart, I have been attacked by vampires and French Quarter witches who believe my baby is the spawn of Satan."

Elijah sighs. "Yes, Niklaus has filled me in on all the latest developments."

"Right. To sum it up, absolutely everyone has been crappy. But your siblings are... Fine. They're weirdly protective."

"Even Niklaus?"

The inflection on his voice makes Caroline think Elijah might be particularly concerned for Klaus' behavior. Which - well, she can't exactly blame him. He's been gone for almost a month due to his brother's volatile nature. But she doesn't really know how to explain that he has been the most protective of all. Bordering on paranoia in many occasions.

"Especially him," she replies.

"So you're getting along well?"

"Oh, you know," she shrugs, looking down at her bowl. "Ups and downs and all that. But... I think we've made some progress."

"Really?"

"He's... trying. Or something. In his own twisted way."

"I suppose that's the best we can hope for from Niklaus. I'm glad to hear it. I'm also glad that, despite all of the attacks you described, you're still in one piece."

"Haven't you heard?" Caroline says, pointing to her belly with the spoon, the corners of her lips curling up into a proud grin. "Your niece is quite the fighter. She healed me."

Elijah's brow furrows. "Healed you?"

"Someone shot me with a crossbow. I _felt_ it shattering my bone. When I woke up, the wound was gone."

"Huh," he mumbles thoughtfully. "That's... interesting."

"And extremely useful if I'm going to keep getting ambushed out there."

Elijah opens his mouth to say something else, but snaps it back shut as though something just hit him, his brow furrowing inquisitively. "Forgive me - did you just say niece?"

Caroline meets his eyes again, a smile so big breaking onto her lips it feels for a moment her face might split in two. 

"How do you know?" Elijah asks.

"Courtesy of the witch Sabine, before she went out spreading rumors about how my daughter is going to tear the whole world to shreds or something."

"So back to the murderous witches," Elijah says. "I have some concerns."

Caroline sighs. "I was reluctant to admit it, but this bunch is batshit crazy. And my life is still linked to Sophie. Not a comforting idea, considering how many of them want me dead."

Rebekah walks in, dragging the body behind her. Caroline wrinkles up her nose. "Really, Rebekah?"

"You asked me to get rid of it, didn't you?" she says, opening the French doors that lead to the back yard. "As for the witches, I'm all for ending this stupid link. As soon as they're unlinked we get to leave this crap town. Who do we have to kill?"

"No one," Elijah answers hurriedly, seeing the protest that almost rises to Caroline's lips. But then, after a second, he relents. "That wasn't entirely honest. Potentially everyone."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

There's a reason why Rebekah wants so desperately to leave New Orleans.

Her brothers only exist in two states: they either can't stand the sight of each other, in which case either Elijah disappears for long bouts of time or Klaus settles the dispute by daggering him; or they are thick as thieves and absolutely nothing comes between them. There's no in-between.

The first case scenario is usually when Klaus becomes most unhinged. When he goes for too long without Elijah's harmonizing presence, he tends to lose touch with his humanity completely. They fight, Elijah leaves, Klaus becomes extremely bitter, starts lashing out, blowing everything out of proportion, and the whole mankind suffers the consequences of his terrible mood swings. In the second case scenario, Rebekah becomes a mere bystander to the Niklaus and Elijah show. 

From time to time, Elijah's determination to rescue Nik's damned soul gets renewed. When that happens, nothing can dissuade him. Not even Klaus' terrible judgement and raw sensibilities. She's lost decades of her life because her brother is a tosser and Elijah decided not to pick a fight in fear it would send Nik spiraling. 

Yes, she can hold a grudge. Sue her.

Right now, she's inclined to believe they're about to plunge into a long stretch of the second case scenario. As soon as Rebekah heard about the baby, she _knew_ Elijah's faith in Niklaus had been magically revived, even if he didn't exactly get the girl pregnant on purpose and would likely take it back if it was up to him. That Nik putting a dagger through his heart and shipping him over to Marcel for weeks hasn't even put a dent on Elijah's loyalties is enough confirmation to Rebekah's suspicions. If _that_ didn't break them apart, nothing else will.

Or _almost_ nothing else.

There's something keeping Klaus and Elijah from shaking hands and becoming attached at the hips as they always do in second case scenario situations. She's noticed it in Nik from the day she arrived, every time Elijah's name came up, and now that their brother is back, she has a better idea of what exactly is behind that strain on their relationship. It's also the reason why Rebekah hasn't left yet.

Caroline Forbes.

Elijah barely waited a second before going after her as soon as he was back home. He's cornered both her and Nik this morning, making questions about Caroline and the baby while he was gone. And just now, in the kitchen... 

It might just be all about the baby. Elijah could be trying very hard to compensate for Klaus' lack of warmth and general bad mood by being extra fussy and showing too hard that he cares. 

_But_. 

The way Nik looks at them, how his eyes flash every time Elijah's name comes out of Caroline's mouth, it tells Rebekah a different story.

It's just a mild suspicion for now, but enough for her to want to stick around for a bit more. If anything, she might be able to convince Elijah to leave town with her when Caroline is officially out of danger. She's Nik's problem, after all, not theirs. And as terrible as she believes her brother will be as a father, Caroline seems to exert a kind of control over him that none of them can. She'll be fine.

If, however, her suspicions prove to be right and Elijah is indeed making more than just concerned uncle eyes at Caroline... Oh, lord save them all from going through the Tatia drama once more, only with steroids this time, considering Nik has become a much, _much_ worse all-around human being since then. 

Either way, for now, the role of cleaning up after her brothers' messes has already landed on her lap.

Rebekah not only had to dispose of the body - that no one invited her to taste, mind you - but she also has to clean the carpet. It's shameful how they have no respect for a 200 years old splendid piece of homeware.

While she scrubs - _"Cold water and detergent only or you'll ruin it!"_ Caroline instructed with all her acquired know-how of years of removing blood stains -, Nik keeps his eyes firmly on his book, but he hasn't flipped a single page in almost half an hour. The crease between his eyebrows and the pursed lips tell her everything she needs to know, really.

"I'm the one cleaning your mess and you're the one getting all cranky?" Rebekah asks.

"I'm trying to read and you keep distracting me with your scrubbing," he says, mindlessly.

"This carpet is ancient."

"Nothing we can't replace."

Rebekah scoffs. "Poetry about poisoned apples from dead trees?" she asks, reading the title on his book. He's carried the dreadful thing with him for ages. Highly overestimated, in Rebekah's opinion. She has to say, though; it's quite appropriate for the moment. "Looks like someone is worried about impending daddyhood."

He lifts his eyes to her, a crude smile ticking the corners of his lips. "Nonsense. Elijah is safely returned. In his presence all problems turn to pixie dust and float away."

Rebekah opens her mouth to call Nik out on being jealous and tell him in no uncertain terms that she'll murder him if he tries anything against Elijah again, but their big brother beats her to it.

"Strange. I don't recall any pixie dust from the darkness of the coffin I was recently forced to endure," he says, picking up an old book.

Rebekah's brow bunches as she realizes it's not just any old book. "What are you doing with mother's spell book?" Elijah ignores her, flips through a few pages and removes one of them. Rebekah gasps. "Did you just rip off a page? Elijah!"

"In exchange for my freedom I promised the witch Davina that I would share a few pages from mother's grimoire. Right now her magic controls her more than the other way around and she is scared of it. I offered to help her learn how to control it. Thought we'd start with a little unlinking spell," he explains, smirking.

"Wait." Rebekah stands up, removing her latex gloves. "You want to use her to unlink Caroline from Sophie Deveraux?"

"Sophie brought us to this town under false pretenses. She doesn't just want us to take down Marcel and his minions; she wants to take Davina back so she can murder her. So she yoked her own cause to ours with magic, threats and half-truths. I don't know about you, but I'm not willing to indulge her any longer."

Klaus puts down his book, turning his full attention now to Elijah. "What are you saying, brother?"

"As of now, our deal with Sophie Deveraux is null and void. We just need to make sure Caroline can no longer be used as leverage. A little representational magic in the hands of an all-powerful witch harboring a lot of resentment towards her coven should do the trick. Niklaus, I need you to come with me. I need five minutes alone with Davina and you have to guarantee I'm not interrupted."

"What about me?" Rebekah asks.

Elijah grins. "You stay here and watch Caroline," he says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Rebekah huffs. "How did I get elected supernanny?"

"More importantly," Klaus starts, his grim expression leaving no doubt that he is just as annoyed at Elijah as she is, albeit for very different reasons. "Who put him in charge?"

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Caroline is halfway through reorganizing the book shelves in the library when she feels a sharp pain on her neck. 

It's very quick, but so strong it makes her holler and drop the book she was holding.

Rebekah is there by her side in a second. "What the hell was that scream?"

Caroline lifts a hand to the spot where she felt the prick, her skin still tingling. "I don't know. I felt like... A stab."

"Stab?" Rebekah asks, approaching her and removing her hand from her neck to take a look. "Like a knife?"

"No, more like... A prickle."

"There's a little blood on your neck," she says, rubbing Caroline's skin and then showing her the red on her finger. "But no puncture. It's all healed. Might have been a scratch. What were you doing?"

"Nothing, just putting a book back on the shelf."

"Maybe it was a mosquito."

She glares. "Really? Have you ever heard of anyone _screaming_ from a mosquito bite?"

"I hear they can be quite big out here in the Bayou," Rebekah shrugs.

Caroline sighs, rolling her eyes as she bends over to pick up the book she dropped. _Great_ , she thinks. Vampires, rogue witches and now freaking poltergeists too. She'll have to add _ghosts_ to the list of factions that want her dead.

"Try not to scare me again, will you? I thought something serious happened."

"I'm so sorry me _feeling pain_ is an inconvenience to you."

"I was left in charge of your welfare today and I don't want to get berated by my jealous angry brother or my overprotective brother when they return from their far more interesting tasks."

Caroline snorts. "Wow, Rebekah. Do you think you could be more of a bi-"

Caroline's entire world goes suddenly white. She doesn't remember fainting, but when her vision flickers back, Rebekah's holding her, pushing her down onto a chair.

"Woah," she mutters. 

"What happened?" Rebekah asks with none of the bitchy attitude of before, concern now etched onto every line of her face.

"I don't know... Everything just... The world is spinning _really_ fast." Caroline inhales deeply, trying to catch her breath. She feels _hot_ , like she's walked into an oven. "Who turned up the heat?"

"No one." Rebekah puts a hand on her forehead, and then on her neck. "Oh, bloody hell. You're burning up."

Caroline slumps back against the chair, scrunching her eyes shut against the heat and the dizziness. And then it hits her.

"Oh, shit," she grumbles, trying to focus on Rebekah's face again. "I think something happened to Sophie."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Things were looking brightly promising after Elijah's encounter with Davina at the church. The little witch was hesitant, but enticed and more than eager to learn. It's not every day one gets their hands on a page straight from the book of the Original witch. Even someone as young as Davina knew exactly the kind of treasure she held in her hands - and to have access to more, she'd have to cooperate.

Elijah was cautiously optimistic. With Davina's youthful ardor and her keenness to control her own magic, not to mention the kind of power she harbored inside of her after the failed Harvest ritual, it wouldn't take long before she managed to unlink Caroline from Sophie Deveraux. 

Rebekah's phone call, however, completely soured Elijah's mood.

Truth be told, Elijah wasn't completely opposed to the magical bond between the mother of Niklaus' daughter and Sophie, not from the start, anyway. Even with all the obvious downsides, the fact Caroline couldn't leave New Orleans was a good thing for their family. He's certain she would've never stayed with them if she thought she had a choice. And considering she's a witch herself - and a talented one, by his siblings' accounts - she would only ever be found if she desired so. After Niklaus' appalling behavior upon being delivered the news, well... It's safe to say that would never happen. Caroline and the child would be forever lost to them, and with them, Elijah's hopes of ever making their family united again.

However inconvenient, Sophie Deveraux's little scheme had its perks.

But Elijah has since changed his mind. He woke up to find out the girl had been targeted by the very witches with whom he bargained a deal on her behalf, and the aftermath of that disastrous kidnap attempt at the Bayou makes him believe they're not ready to give up. They'll come for Caroline again, and Sophie is an irreparable weakness. Unless they are willing to take her into their home and keep her under strict surveillance 24/7 - which, to be clear, they aren't -, anyone could use her to harm Caroline. Not all the protection three Originals can provide to that girl will be enough to keep her safe as long as that link exists.

Even at the risk of having Caroline choosing to leave them, the link must be extinguished. Elijah would rather let her go than let her die. 

Niklaus would probably voice a different opinion, he's afraid. One more on the lines of _She's neither dying nor going anywhere, even if I have to lock her up in a dungeon to ensure it_. 

He so lacks the subtlety of human connections, his brother...

Right now, however, Elijah's afraid they might be too late.

After Rebekah calls to report on Caroline's complaint of having felt a stabbing pain on her neck, he and Niklaus go straight to Rousseau's to find Sophie. But what they encounter there is not at all encouraging.

The kitchen has all the signs of a struggle, and another witch is lying on the floor, unconscious. "Sabine," Niklaus informs him, baring his teeth at the woman, ready to rip out her head just to placate the obvious growing rancor inside of him. Elijah remembers the woman from the night when Niklaus was brought to New Orleans, and Caroline was telling him about her just this morning. The one who found out she's expecting a girl - and also the reason behind the witches' sudden decision to have his niece murdered before she's even born.

If she wasn't their only witness, Elijah wouldn't be opposed to letting his brother work out his discontentment whichever way he pleases.

As it is, however...

"We need her alive," he says, biting on his wrist and crouching down beside the girl to feed her a bit of his blood.

Klaus grunts something unintelligible behind him, but remains still. Angry and impatient though he may be, Niklaus is far from stupid.

The witch's eyes fly open not ten seconds later, scared and electric. 

Elijah offers her a hand and helps her stand to her feet, which she does with a painful groan.

"What happened?" he asks.

"It was Agnes," Sabine replies with a grimace. "Her men took Sophie."

"Day one in charge, brother, and already the witch linked to Caroline has been abducted by zealots," Niklaus hisses. "What do they want?"

"I don't know."

"Where is she?" Elijah asks, trying to stand between his brother and Sabine. Klaus' patience isn't going to last for much longer.

Sabine shakes her head. "If I tell you where Agnes is, you'll just kill her."

"Oh, is it that obvious?" Niklaus derides.

"I know she's a little cuckoo, but she's our last living elder. That might not mean a lot to you but it means plenty to us. The elders are the only ones who can do important spells."

"Like completing the Harvest ritual?" Elijah asks.

Sabine's eyes widen with a mixture of shock and worry. "You know about that?"

"You'd be astounded by the things I know."

"Enough of this!" Niklaus growls, pushing Elijah out of the way. "Tell me where she is, _now_ , or your last living elder won't be the only dead witch by the end of the day," his brother speaks measuredly through grit teeth, his eyes flashing yellow.

Sabine takes a step back, swallowing, perhaps trying to play hard, or perhaps now too scared to speak. Either way, Elijah is done playing games.

"I think what my brother is attempting to communicate here is that neither the life of this elder nor the Harvest ritual nor your coven's connection to magic is of any relevance to him whatsoever. So I suggest you start talking."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Klaus cannot guarantee he won't do something incredibly idiotic which he will terribly regret if his hands get anywhere within reach of Sophie Deveraux, so he stands back and lets Elijah break her free of the chains Agnes put her in.

Aside from having been a little roughed up by her fellow witches as they dragged her here and immobilized her with the chains, Sophie looks fine. Which makes no sense. Rebekah's called them twice already, saying Caroline's fever is skyrocketing.

"Speak," he orders as soon as Elijah puts her down.

"Agnes stuck me with a needle," she says, rubbing her bruised wrists. "It's a dark object, called needle of sorrows. It was created -"

"I don't care about context. Skip a few decades and go straight to what it does, will you, love?"

She stops for a moment, swallowing. "It kills a child in utero by raising the blood temperature."

Elijah turns to him, a panicked look on his face. "It's for a miscarriage."

Klaus' beast roars inside of him as he feels something snap. In a second, he's on Sophie, pushing her against the wall and breathing barely-controlled anger twists from rage in front of her. His gum itches as his fangs beg to be used. "I am sick of you witches trying to harm the mother of my child."

"Niklaus," Elijah says, placing a hand on his shoulder. "The link."

He lets go of the woman, who lets out a gasp as she drops to the floor. 

"How much time do we have to fix this?" Elijah asks, keeping his voice cool. But Klaus can see the worried lines on his forehead, the way his shoulders tense. His brother is about to snap, too. These witches are playing with fire.

"It'll do what it's meant to by tonight's high tide," Sophie explains. "And believe me, it will work."

"Believe _me_ when I say you most definitely don't want it to work," he barks at her.

"Where can we find Agnes?" Elijah asks.

"You can't. There are a thousand places she could hole up to wait it out. I doubt she's even at the French Quarter."

Elijah sighs in frustration. "That's precisely why we need to unlink you from Caroline. This can't go on. No more putting her or the child in danger."

"What? No!" Sophie protests, standing to her feet. "If I'm not linked to Caroline, I lose my leverage on you. We had a deal."

"We are not on the same side, Sophie Deveraux, your people have made that crystal clear," Elijah says, an undertone of danger on his cold voice that Klaus knows only too well. His brother disguises his monster better than the rest of them, but he's just as ruthless, and in certain occasions, like when his family is threatened, more. "You lied, and your guarantees seem to be rather null when Caroline and the child keep being endangered by your own people. We kept our part of the bargain, but you have repeatedly undermined yours. So our deal no longer stands."

Sophie opens her mouth to argue, desperation flashing across her eyes as she realizes her whole plan is about to crumble. Before she can start, though, Klaus walks up to her again, shutting her up with a golden glare. "If I were you, I would be very careful now. As soon as you're unlinked, or if anything happens to her or to my child, you and your entire coven will be wiped out from the face of earth in excruciating pain."

"Well. You heard him," Elijah says, standing shoulder to shoulder with him as they stare down the conflicted witch. 

Sophie has a choice now. She can either side with them and do whatever is in her power to save the child and, therefore, her own life, or she side with her fellow witches, kiss goodbye to their Harvest ritual and pray that Klaus never finds her.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Rebekah is not at all surprised that Caroline is a nightmare as a sick patient. The worse she feels, the more restless she becomes. Rebekah has to make use of her vampire strength in a moment of weakness, when dizziness takes over and Caroline nearly tumbles, to carry her into the bedroom and make her lie down.

Rebekah puts cool towels on her head and on her belly, but the fever only gets worse. At some point, she's so hot she starts alternating between moments of clarity and hallucinations. Starts calling Rebekah Elena, trying to push her off as Rebekah holds her down on the bed. "You don't understand, Elena! I'm _pregnant_! I can't just lie down, I have to do something!"

She never thought taking care of one human girl could be so exhausting, but it makes sense that Caroline would be a handful. Nik likes them spirited. Too spirited, perhaps.

At least taking care of Caroline gives Rebekah a distraction from her own anxiety. She's called Elijah about a million times already and there's still no conclusive answer. Last time they spoke he told her he was on his way home. She hopes to God he's bringing a cure along with him. Her chest feels tight, heavy, at the thought of anything bad happening to this child. She doesn't really share Elijah's idealism, but she's come to care a lot more about this baby than she ever thought she would. Rebekah's opinion that Niklaus is the worst father material this world has ever produced remains unchanged, but she cannot deny that what he and Caroline made really is a miracle. And in any case, it's her blood, her _niece_. 

Caroline starts stirring again, trying to remove the towel from her head.

"Don't fuss," Rebekah says, taking the towel from her and wetting it again in a basin by the bed, before wringing it and putting it back on her sweaty forehead.

Caroline takes a deep shuddery breath, giving Rebekah such a pitiful look the vampire has to turn away for a moment. She's so scared, the poor thing.

"Elijah should be home any minute," she says, trying to offer some measure of comfort, however flimsy. 

"And Klaus?"

_Ah_. It's not Elijah the brother Caroline wants to hear from.

"I don't know. They were together, but..." she trails off, shrugging a little. 

Caroline groans, removing the towel from her belly. 

"Would you stop doing that?" Rebekah slaps her hand away.

"These are awful," she protests. "They're hot and humid. It feels worse."

"Just because you're carrying a baby, doesn't mean you get to act like one."

"That's easy for you to say. You're the one who's been microwaved."

"I'm sure my little niece is healing you up as we speak."

"I don't think the vampire blood is working, Rebekah."

No. Of course it isn't. But Rebekah wants to believe otherwise, that the baby's magical blood is fighting this weird infection that took root on Caroline, because she dreads the alternative.

"Rebekah?" Elijah calls from the first floor. 

"Up here!" she calls back, jumping to her feet. "Caroline's room!"

A moment later, her brother is there, and she's about to let out a sigh of relief when she sees who he brought with him.

"What the hell is she doing here?" she demands.

Sophie stops by the door, raising both her palms in the air in a sign of surrender. "I'm trying to help."

"Help? You're the reason we're in this bloody mess," she spits out, then turning to Elijah like her brother has gone completely insane. "Why aren't we unlinked with this witch already?"

"We're working on it. In the meantime, let her do what she can."

"I may know a way to slow the fever down, but I'm gonna need some special herbs. I'll text you a list. You can find them in Katie's shop."

Rebekah senses a dozen less than polite expletives rise to her lips. The _nerve_! But then she sees the silent plea in Elijah's face, which means that he's run out of options and Sophie Deveraux is their best shot.

_For fuck's sake._

"Fine. Glad to play fetch girl," she says, taking one last look at Caroline's dejected form, reminding herself she's doing this for her niece and storming out.

This thing better work, or she swears to God she's going to paint that room red with Sophie Deveraux's blood.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Rebekah is going to leave them.

She was always determined to enjoy her moment of reprieve away from Niklaus. With their brother busy in New Orleans, she's free to go wherever she wants, do whatever she wants, and that's not a freedom Rebekah has enjoyed many times over the past few centuries. It's selfish to even ask her to stay for the sake of the family when that's what she's done for hundreds and hundreds of years at great personal cost, but still Elijah hoped that the baby would persuade her to change her mind.

He can see now that his plan has failed. His sister is all but ready to fly the nest, and it's at least partly his fault for not showing her the kind of appreciation she deserves.

He writes a mental note to tell her that later, to remind her that, despite his many faults, he loves her very much. And so does Niklaus, in his own peculiar way.

But this will have to wait. There are far more important things at stake here than his sister's centuries' worth of hurt feelings.

"How are you feeling?" Elijah asks Caroline. 

"Hot. Dizzy. Pissed off," she replies, drily, swallowing down hard. He immediately turns to find water, filling a glass and passing it to her. "Where's your brother?"

"He's trying to locate Agnes."

She lets out a bitter laugh, a shadow crossing her fever-ridden eyes. "It's too good a chance to exert justified revenge over someone he can actually hurt for him to pass, isn't it? He just can't help himself. Not even when - _holy shit_ it's hot in here."

Elijah shoots a look at Sophie, who starts moving around the bedroom, gathering things.

"Agnes has used a dark object on Sophie."

Caroline falters. "What kind of dark object?"

"It's called needle of sorrows," Sophie explains. "It's raising your body's temperature to-" The witch hesitates, exchanging a quick glance with Elijah. 

There's no point in keeping things from Caroline at this point.

"To force a miscarriage," Elijah finishes.

Her eyes widen with terror as she looks from him to Sophie, searching for something. Reassurance, most likely. The promise that they have a way to fix it. Elijah's heart sinks in his chest. He swore to that girl that he would keep her and her child safe, struck a deal with people he knew to be untrustworthy out of some misguided attempt to keep her by their side. Now his selfishness might cost the child's life. He won't ever be able to forgive himself for ruining his one chance of doing something right for this family, for doing something _good_. For not keeping his promise to her. 

He should've just let her go. Found a way to break the bond between her and Sophie and told her to run. That would've been the decent thing to do, the _human_ thing. Mikaelsons, as always, destroy everything they dare to care for. They don't know how to protect life; only how to extirpate it.

"No," Caroline says, a desperate tinge to her voice. "No, I can't let this happen. How do we stop it? What do I have to do?" She sits up in bed, her arms almost buckling under her weight as she leans on them. Elijah can't tell if it's the fever making her shake or the fear of losing her baby.

"Niklaus is trying to retrieve the object. Agnes might know how to undo it and... You know how persuasive my brother can be." Even as he says it, he knows he's lying. It's a feeble hope, and the look Sophie gives him confirms it. Dark magic has very peculiar ways. Once it takes root...

And Caroline, obviously, knows it as well. "And what if she can't?" she asks, crestfallen.

"We're trying to get you and Sophie unlinked. I'm hoping it'll come through, but we need to make time."

"And this is where I can help. I've already texted Rebekah the ingredients, she'll be here soon."

"Did you ask for... uhm... Motherwort? Valerian, also. And, uhm... Shit, I can't... Remember..." Caroline shuts her eyes, slumping back against her pillows as though suddenly losing all strength.

Elijah gives Sophie a pointed look. "We need to do something now."

The witch nods, biting on her lip thoughtfully. "Do you have... a bath?"

"We have a pool."

"Even better."

He put his arms under Caroline's body and lifts her off the bed as though she were a plume. She stirs a little, making a grimace, but doesn't open her eyes. At this point Elijah isn't sure the curse won't kill her as well. No human body can endure that kind of strain. She's soaking wet and burning up, her heart beating a lot faster than it should be possible to.

He leads the way to the back yard with Sophie on his trail, carrying her to the pool side. The witch tests the water and, apparently satisfied that the temperature is cool enough, orders him to sit her down and put her feet inside.

"I'll go grab some stuff from your kitchen to prepare the concoction," she announces, disappearing back inside the house.

Elijah removes his jacket and sits down by the pool, pulling Caroline up, leaning her back and head against his shoulder so she'll stay up, with her feet in the water.

After a moment, she seems to return to her senses, a loud groan escaping her lips. "What is this?" she asks, blinking slowly.

"Sophie says the water might help cool you down."

"Not even burying me in ice will do much help at this point."

"We just to need to buy some time for Davina to complete the unlinking spell."

"Davina?" Caroline turns to him, a tiny spark of hope in her eyes. "You spoke to her?"

He nods. "She's under the impression that the unlinking spell is a powerful manner for her to practice control, which is not entirely untrue, just... We're hijacking it a little bit. I'm sure she'll get there."

"I should've done this myself a long time ago. I don't know why I listened to that crap about the... The magic ban," she stutters a little, gasping for air again. "What's the point of being a freaking witch if I can't even... Save my own baby."

Elijah puts a hand under her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "None of this is your fault, Caroline," he says, softly. "You couldn't do magic because that would bring vampires straight to you, and not even a witch would be able to stop all of Marcel's army. It was our job, mine and Niklaus', to keep you safe and we have disappointed you. But I'm not giving up yet. There's still time."

Caroline looks like she's going to say something, a complex set of emotions crossing her face, but then she presses her lips shut and turns away from him.

"I got it," Sophie announces as she returns with a bunch of bowls and mixers. The moment for Elijah to say something else - to apologize or appease her - passes, and all he's left with is his helplessness.

For all his talk about the baby being his _hope_ , he so detests it when that is all he's got.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Rebekah manages to make the trip from the plantation to the French Quarter and back in record time. Minus a small run-in with Marcel, who caught her sneaking into Katie's shop, there were no incidents. She called Nik on the way, but he didn't answer.

Her faith in Sophie Deveraux is shaky to say the least, and she would argue that Elijah's trust on her has been clearly misplaced. She speaks for the witches but doesn't seem to be able to control them at all. What kind of leader is that? One that should be deposed, in Rebekah's modest opinion. But Rebekah's opinions haven't exactly been resonating with her know-it-all brothers lately.

The only reason she's agreeing to any of this is because they are running out of time and she can't really come up with a better solution. So let Elijah have his way. But she'll have _words_ once this is all over. The way they are conducting things around here is just plain wrong and if this is how Elijah and Nik intend to raise a child, then maybe a miscarriage won't be the end of the world.

_Damn it._

Rebekah bites her tongue, her own thoughts leaving a bitter tang in her mouth. That's not really how she feels. She doesn't want the child to die, she doesn't even want Caroline to get hurt, and she's never been favorable towards that girl. But Rebekah is angry, and frustrated. She's an Original vampire, supposedly one of the most powerful beings to roam this earth, and all she can do to help is break speeding limits to fetch a couple of herbs.

The sun has already gone down by the time she returns to the plantation, and Elijah and the witch have taken Caroline to the pool. Her brother is pacing like a maniac while Caroline tries not to pass out. Sophie immediately takes to chopping and kneading and mixing things.

"How long do we have?" she asks, trying to keep her voice low so Caroline won't hear her. Not that it makes much of a difference, but she hardly thinks that adding to the already tremendous panic will help.

"We have until tonight's high tide, so..." She sends Rebekah a pointed glance. Not long, then.

"She's getting even warmer," Elijah says, touching the side of Caroline's neck. "We need to do this now."

"Get her in the water," Sophie commands.

Elijah doesn't even hesitate, just jumps inside the pool and pulls Caroline with him. She goes without a hint of a protest, as though she's hardly controlling her body anymore.

"How's a midnight swim supposed to help here?" Rebekah asks.

"Her temperature is sky high, and the water, with the help of the herbs, should cool us down." 

Sophie transfers the herbs into a different bowl, mixes it with water and then jumps in the pool after them. "Here," she says, pushing the bowl to Caroline's lips. "Drink this." She obliges, but immediately starts coughing, almost gagging. "Hold it in," Sophie says, putting a finger on Caroline's lips until she can swallow the whole thing down. "We're gonna have to get her heart rate down."

"And how do you suggest I do that?" Elijah asks, sounding clearly annoyed.

"Hold her. It's a natural human remedy to slow the heart rate and reduce blood pressure."

She didn't even have to ask, really, because Caroline can barely keep herself up. Elijah pulls her closer, putting a hand under her legs and the other around her shoulder, and she curls up against him without much of a fight. Eyes closed, lips parted. She's hardly aware of what's happening to her right now, lost in a state of semi-consciousness.

"This is never going to work," Rebekah mutters, as the last shreds of hope she was clinging to begin to dissipate.

"Davina will break that link", Elijah says, but he might be trying to convince himself more than Rebekah.

One thing Rebekah knows for sure, though, is that she hasn't seen her older brother that distraught in a good many... decades? Granted, she spent a very long time separated from Elijah. But not even when their mother came back from the dead he became so overflown with concern. She realizes just how much this child means to him, and for all of her initial dismissive remarks, it has come to mean something to her as well. But... 

It's not just the child.

Rebekah wasn't here when Elijah and Caroline met, she doesn't know what happened on those early days. Niklaus certainly never seemed very keen on sharing, mostly because, from what Rebekah gathered from the bits and pieces she heard, his reaction was as terrible as one would expect, and Klaus' way to deal with his shame is to bury it, pretend it's not there and become offended whenever anybody brings it up.

It's easy to understand how Caroline would become close to Elijah then, considering her baby daddy was having one of his famous temper tantrums. Her older brother is a nurturer, a protector, he's always been like that. Took onto himself the responsibility of being the head of the family, even when Finn was still around, spilling nonsense about how they should all kill themselves to atone for their sins. So he took Caroline under his wings and has extended to her the same kind of care he offers his own blood. It makes perfect sense. Elijah is exactly that kind of person. It's what Rebekah's always loved the most about him. His ability to show kindness.

Then why is this situation rubbing her all the wrong ways, then?

It becomes a little bit clearer when Caroline, in her feverish daze, starts mumbling a bunch of incoherence, and calling out for Klaus. Every time their brother's name escapes her lips, Rebekah sees a muscle tense on Elijah's jaw. 

He's developing feelings for Caroline Forbes, isn't he? The damn fool.

How can he let this happen? How can he cultivate that kind of sentiment for a girl who's carrying Nik's baby? Has he spent so much time apart from their brother that he's forgotten what he's like? Can he not imagine the hell Nik will unleash upon them when he finds out? Or rather... When he confirms it. Nik is paranoid enough to have already picked up on it. How he never hesitated to put a dagger through Elijah's heart, the way he's been sulking about the house ever since he came back... He's suspicious. And oh, good lord, if Caroline ever dares to reciprocate Elijah's feelings...

This is going to end in tears. For everyone.

Rebekah doesn't know if she has the stomach to watch it happen.

Caroline suddenly gives a violent jerk, coming out of her semi-comatose state to claw desperately at her own throat. "I can't... I ca... Breathe..." she whirs out, her eyes bulging as panic takes over.

"Do something!" Rebekah yells at Sophie, who's still inside the pool. Useless witch.

"Caroline, look at me," Elijah coos, softly, taking her hands in his. "Long, deep, breaths... That's it. Calm down. You'll be ok. You'll be ok."

Miraculously, she seems to settle for a moment, gasping for air as she locks eyes with Elijah. But the calm only lasts a second. She starts screaming in pain, clutching her belly, squirming in the water. Elijah grabs her, keeps her from going under, and she passes out again in his arms.

Both Mikaelsons look at Sophie, ridden with fear and confusion. The witch blinks calmly. "I just felt it lift," she says.

"What? The link is broken?" Rebekah asks.

Sophie gets out of the water and takes a knife from where she was preparing the potion, making a small cut on her hand. Elijah takes Caroline's hand to check. There's nothing.

"What about the baby?" Rebekah asks. 

"I can hear it," Elijah says. "The heart. It's still beating."

Rebekah sharpens her hearing, canceling out all the other noises. And sure enough, there it is. Tiny and fast, too fast maybe, but beating nonetheless. Alive.

Sweet relief floods Rebekah as a weight in her chest lifts.

The baby is ok and the bloody link has been broken. At least this nightmare is over.

Elijah puts Caroline, still unconscious, on the edge of the pool and then pulls himself out of the water. That's one pair of Italian shoes he can kiss goodbye to.

"Elijah," Sophie calls, sheepishly. "As soon as your brother finds out that the link is broken, he'll kill Agnes. I know you don't owe me anything, but please don't let him kill her."

Elijah doesn't even dignify her request with a look, which seems harsh even for Rebekah. He crouches down and picks Caroline up in his arms again.

"Please," Sophie continues. "She's our only access to the power we need to survive. I will do anything - whatever you want me to, to make sure the witches won't charge against the baby again. But we _need_ Agnes. Promise me that you'll stop Klaus."

Elijah finally turns to her. "In spite of having summoned my brother here, you seem to have some terrible misconceptions about him. For starters, he hardly ever listens to anyone, not even me. One person whose opinion he does seem to value, however seldom, is this girl. The one your people attacked."

"Elijah, _please_."

He hesitates for a moment. "I won't let him kill Agnes. You have my word."

He whirls around and goes back inside the house. The witch turns to Rebekah then, a silent plea in her eyes.

"Sorry. I could help, but I don't really want to," she says with a shrug. "Also, try to pull off anything like this again and I'll kill you," Rebekah adds before following her brother.

She finds Elijah putting Caroline gently down on a chair in her room.

"Can you take care of her?" he asks, not needing to turn around to know Rebekah is watching him. "The sheets on her bed need to be changed."

"Sure. And now that the link has been broken, maybe we can start making plans about -"

"Not now, Rebekah," he says, turning around and brushing by Rebekah to go change out of his wet clothes. "Can we talk about this when I return?"

"Where are you going?"

"To find Niklaus."

Of course he is. 

Rebekah was naive to ever think he'd leave New Orleans with her. Elijah lives his life just waiting for an opportunity to let bygones be bygones, forgive the past and join Klaus again, and now he has the best reason of all.

She only hopes that Caroline and the baby don't end up coming between them. If anything, then for the girl's own good.

"I suppose you couldn't just wake up change your own clothes, could you?" she mutters to Caroline before letting out a resigned sigh. 

As annoyed as she is by all this, she's also relieved. They came real close to losing this baby tonight. Of all the things that have fractured this family's bonds over the centuries, she doesn't think anything would ever hit harder than the loss of her miracle niece - and possibly Caroline, as well. Nik would certainly take ages to get over it, if ever. She'll play maid to Caroline, just this once. After what she went through tonight, she deserves a respite.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Klaus twirls the _needle of sorrows_ in his hand, eyes never leaving the face of the haughty witch sitting across from him.

His calm exterior is all but a façade. Klaus is _exploding_ with rage on the inside. He can feel the blood pumping through Agnes' body in his bones, the vein on her neck jumping at him, begging to be drained. The beast inside is roaring, desperate to be unleashed. But he waits. And the calmer he remains, the longer the silence lasts, the more antsy the witch becomes. She thinks she's doing a good job at keeping her dignity, but Klaus can hear the way her heart is hammering in her chest. How every time he moves, or blinks, or grins, her guts clench and her whole body goes stiff. He can _smell_ the fear on her. He'd forgotten how satisfying that was - to relish the capture before the kill. But he'll appreciate sinking his teeth into Agnes' poisonous flesh just as much. And he'll be sure to make it _hurt_.

Maybe he'll turn a cauldron of boiling water into her mouth. Let her know how good it feels to be cooked from the inside out.

The wait is giving him time to have ideas. He was annoyed by Elijah's request that he waits before finishing her. If he'd done as he pleased, she would've gotten a quick death, hours ago. As it is, who knows where Klaus' creative evil genius will take them by the end of the night?

Agnes will beg for mercy before he's done with her.

Klaus enlisted the help of the human faction to find Agnes. The witches have angered quite a few of them, and they were more than happy to use their archaic intelligence to track her down. It didn't even take that long. He caught her trying to escape a house in the Bayou. All alone, the silly witch. Didn't even try to run. It was either getting caught by him, or getting caught by Marcel, if she tried to use magic. Agnes mistakenly assumed that Klaus wouldn't end her, hoping that the agreement between Sophie and Elijah would save her life. He's a bit offended that those witches don't seem to know him at all, truth be told.

Well, no matter. They'll get a thorough introduction before the night is over.

Elijah called him half an hour before to tell him it's over. Davina managed to undo the link and Caroline and the child are out of danger.

Something inside of Klaus seemed to turn over then, and he breathed as though for the first time in hours. The world seemed to fall back into focus around him; he'd been seeing everything through the blurry lenses of hatred.

"You should go to her," Elijah told him at the cemetery. "I'll go find Agnes."

And he'd wanted to. How badly he'd wanted to... But that was precisely why he couldn't. Klaus doesn't know how to sit back and _watch_. How to wait for other people, other circumstances, to do his bidding. He wouldn't be able to stand still while Caroline burned in fever and their child slowly died. He wouldn't be able to look into her eyes and admit he had no idea what to do. He wouldn't know what to say. Just to imagine her disappointment... And if the baby died... 

No. Klaus couldn't go to her. He had to find Agnes, whom he could torture and break and terrorize to exorcise all the frustrations eating away at him. That he knows how to do.

As much as it pains him to admit it, Elijah would be a far more soothing presence to Caroline in that moment than he ever could.

And in any case, it's over now. And all there's left to do is decide Agnes' fate.

He'd be lying if he said he doesn't find this part _delightful_.

"This is quite a large needle," he says, his lips curling into a wicked smile as Agnes shifts in her place. "I wonder what it'd feel to stick it in your eye. I was thinking of maybe boiling you alive, but perhaps leaving bits of you artfully arranged outside your family's tomb leaves a more fitting message, wouldn't you agree?" He stands to his feet, and the woman shudders from head to toe. "It says _Don't touch my family_."

Just as he's starting to feel that he's at the end of his patience and ready to get it over with, Elijah arrives. Klaus hears as his car parks outside and, seconds later, his brother is there, face unreadable as he takes in the sight of the terrified Agnes, unfortunately still in one piece.

"I gave my word, Niklaus," his brother starts. "That you wouldn't touch her."

Klaus growls, his lips curling back into an ugly grimace. In a blur, he's grabbing Agnes and pulling her up, his fingers digging into her neck, read to rip it open with his claws. "You tend to give your word at the most inopportune of times, brother. If you think I'll spare this witch's life after what she did today, you're completely delusional."

"Niklaus, do not make another move," Elijah says, his voice deceptively calm. "You have asked for my forgiveness for putting me in a coffin. I will grant you that forgiveness, but do not make me break my word."

Klaus grinds his teeth, his jaw muscles twitching. A roar that comes from somewhere deep inside of him escapes his lips and, painfully slowly, he commands his body to let go. Everything in him wants to taste Agnes' blood. But he owes Elijah, both for daggering him and for what he did for Caroline today, and his brother has a penchant for picking the worst of times to collect.

He opens his arms in an overtly dramatic manner as he steps away from Agnes. It physically hurts to let that woman go free. "My noble brother," he speaks from behind grit teeth. "How's that for personal growth, eh? It is just like you to spoil my fun."

"Not exactly."

In a blink, Elijah's on Agnes' face, grabbing her by the neck with something feral flashing behind his eyes. The woman whimpers, emanating fear from every pore on her body.

"I swore you would not die by my brother's hand. I said nothing of my own." Elijah squeezes, a sharp wheeze squeaking from her mouth before he twists her neck violently to the side. Agnes drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes. 

Now, _that_ was truly unexpected. Klaus is too stunned to even speak. He should be mad Elijah stole the honor of finishing Agnes from him, but something in his eyes make him hesitate. Elijah is... Distraught. Burning with anger. In fact, Klaus sees a lot of himself reflected in his brother's demeanor in that moment. And he can only imagine what it must've been like back at the plantation house, the horror Caroline must've been put through. For Elijah to be driven out of his mind with vengeance this way, it was a lot uglier than he made it sound like over the phone. 

"No one hurts my family and lives. No one," he says before whirling around and walking back to his car.

Klaus can't help the smile that creeps onto his lips. Divergences aside, he is actually proud of his big brother. 

He wanted so desperately to be more like Elijah... Well, it seems they have more in common than he thought.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Caroline wakes up from something that isn't so much sleep as an unnatural state of unconsciousness.

The last thing she remembers clearly is the heat. Impossible. Suffocating. Consuming her from the inside out. It felt like dying an excruciatingly slow death. The pain itself is gone, but the memory is it is imprinted on her nerves, echoing inside of her. 

She can vaguely recall water. Did they take her to the pool? And then Elijah talking to her. Telling her to breathe. That she would be all right. And that's about as far as her memory goes.

_Her baby._

Caroline sits up like a thunder, putting a hand on top of her belly. Did they stop the magic? Did they break the link? It's dark outside, and she doesn't feel like she's been out for long, but it could've been hours. She doesn't even know how long she hallucinated for. She feels slightly uncomfortable, but not in pain. And she isn't bleeding either. If the dark object had been successful, she should be having a miscarriage right now. So that's a good sign. Right?

Somehow, they managed to stop it. Davina must've undone the link, after all. And in the nick of time, if Caroline's hazy memory is anything to go by.

She shuts her eyes, takes a deep breath, feels a weight lifting off her chest. That was close. Closer than the vampires at the French Quarter and closer than the witches in the Bayou. _God_ , can't a girl just have a _break_? She just wants to have regular mom-to-be concerns for a change, like swollen ankles and fighting Klaus on baby names.

It doesn't escape her that someone's changed her clothes and maybe even cleaned her up a bit. She remembers enough to know she was gross from all that sweat. And coming to think of it - her sheets were changed as well. She hopes to _God_ it was either Rebekah or Sophie and not Elijah. Or Klaus. But Klaus wasn't there. Klaus is never there.

_Damn it_ , how she wants to speak to Klaus... Maybe yell at him a little bit for not being home while she went through the scariest moment of her life. Caroline's faced near death several times before, but somehow this felt worse. It felt real and unstoppable and her baby was dying faster than she was and there was shit she could do. Rebekah was incredibly supportive and Elijah did manage to calm her down a little, but all Caroline wanted was for Klaus to be there. It doesn't matter that he'd gone after Agnes. Agnes could freaking wait.

It's been over a month and she has no idea where Klaus stands with this pregnancy. He's committed, to a certain degree; that much is obvious. But sometimes she gets the feeling he wants to distance himself from it as much as possible. Like he might have an ulterior motive to want a baby, but definitely does not want to be a father.

Caroline wishes he would just _talk_ to her. He certainly seems to have no problem talking to Camille. 

_Ugh._

If the witches, or the vampires, or the other witches don't get her killed, this family probably will.

She gets out of bed, stretching out her arms and smiling as she realizes she's not sore in any obvious ways. "Good baby", she mutters, patting her belly gently.

The house is oddly quiet. After all that madness, Caroline expected to find the siblings up in arms. But lights are out everywhere and there's not a sound. "Klaus?" she calls. Silence. "Elijah? _Rebekah_?"

_Great_. She's home alone.

And hungry, she realizes as her stomach starts to grumble.

She makes a peanut butter and jam sandwich and eats half of it when someone starts banging on the front door.

Caroline freezes, standing very still, quickly thinking of places to hide - and then she realizes if it was someone trying to hurt her, they would probably not bang on the door, would they? Especially since the house is clearly empty.

She approaches the door tentatively, preparing to send caution to air and just use magic if they try to jump her.

It's Josh, Klaus' compelled newbie vampire.

"Jesus, Josh," she says. "It's the middle of the night."

"Where's Klaus? I need to speak with him," he says, urgently.

"Get in line. He's not here, I don't know where he is."

Josh clicks his tongue. "I've been trying to reach him all day, he's no answering his phone."

"Yeah, well. It's been a rough day. Have you tried Rousseau's?" she suggests, not exactly hiding the bitterness on her voice. If Klaus really is at Rousseau's having a heart-to-heart over a drink with Camille after what happened, she's seriously going to flip. But only on the inside, because she'd never give him the satisfaction of knowing it bothers her on a personal level. 

"Yeah, he wasn't there." Well, good. "Can you _please_ tell him to call me as soon as you see him? It's important. Marcel knows he's lying about where he lives."

Oh.

_Oh_.

"Ok, sure. I'll let him know."

"Thank you."

Josh doesn't even wait for her to shut the door before he whooshes away. That explains the haunted look on his face. He's probably scared Marcel will find out about him next. And Klaus probably threatened him in case he failed to inform him of anything important. Josh seems like a nice guy. Caroline feels sorry for him.

She's not even back to the kitchen yet when there's another bang. "Oh, holy crap," she grumbles, turning around and pulling the door open ready to berate Josh with a _I was almost fried today and I'm trying to eat a freaking sandwich, can you give me five minutes, Josh?_ but she stops. Her words die in her mouth, her whole body freezing.

It's not Josh.

"Well, well, well. Hello there. I believe we haven't been introduced yet," the visitor says, a bright, charming smile as big as the world on his face and a dangerous glint in his dark eyes. "I'm Marcel."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It's late when Klaus finally gets home.

After Elijah left, he took Agnes' body to Lafayette Cemetery. Not as a courtesy to the witches, but as a warning. Try anything like this again and you'll end up like your last remaining elder. Nothing like a good lesson to teach some decent manners to rebellious witches.

He considered stopping by the Quarter to be seen around Palace Royale, but he's done for tonight. It's not every day Klaus gets this sort of feeling. Not so much a physical exhaustion, but a weariness that runs deeper, seeps into his bones and makes him _crave_ for a few hours of sleep. 

It's not every day Klaus feels like sleeping.

It's something about needing this day to be over, maybe. Sleeping sometimes gives that feeling of closure.

He also needs to _feed_. The more distraught he feels, the hungrier he gets. Elijah didn't just steal his murder victim, he also stole his dinner. A trip to the French Quarter would also give him a chance to find a quick snack, but fresh food can wait. He can make do with a blood bag - or three - this evening.

Above all, he needs to see Caroline.

Just to see with his own eyes that she's safe. Part of him is still not entirely at ease.

He's just parked his car outside the house, right next to Elijah's, when his phone rings.

It's Marcel.

Klaus grunts in annoyance. What could he possibly want at 2 am?

"Marcel. Do you happen to own a watch, mate?"

"I thought you'd be up. Friend of mine just saw your close to the witch cemetery."

Bloody brilliant. "Just paying my respects. Can I help you with anything?"

"You're not still mad about our tiff the other night, are you?"

"Water under the bridge."

"Listen... I just had the pleasure to meet a friend of yours."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She's cute. I was wondering why you never introduced us. Afraid I'd still your girl?"

Klaus' eyes narrow to slits. "I'm not sure I'm following."

"Oh, you must know who I'm talking about. Caroline."

Klaus goes instantly into alert mode, eyes searching for any sign that he's being watched. There's no movement, no sounds, no lights... 

"You've met Caroline?" he asks, trying to keep it as casual as possible. He needs to know how much Marcel knows. Maybe he didn't meet her, maybe someone told him about her. _Josh._ When Klaus gets his hands on that mouthy little -

"It's the funniest thing, actually. I swung by your place earlier to commiserate over a drink and there she was."

Klaus' eyebrows furrow in confusion. "You stopped by the Palace Royale?"

"No, man. I mean your _other_ place. The one you didn't tell me about? Loved what you did to the house, by the way. I remembered it differently from my days as a slave there."

Klaus stops listening, turns back to the house. His heart lurches inside his chest.

Marcel has been here, and he knows about Caroline.

"Anyway. Just thought it would be nice to let you know. You know, since we're _friends_ and you've got nothing to hide and all. I'll talk to you later."

As soon as Marcel ends the call, Klaus storms through the door. The house is mostly dark, but he follows Elijah's voice to the second floor.

He's in Caroline's room, talking on the phone.

"I said Caroline's gone, Rebekah. She's not here. Where is she?"

A knot twists painfully inside Klaus' chest, fear unfurling in his guts. Not the nightwalkers, the witches, or even Agnes' dark objects; the thing that frightened Klaus the most was Marcel finding out about Caroline. About the child. 

The despair must show on his features, because when Elijah turns to him, his expression morphs into one of sheer panic.

"What is it?"

Klaus balls his hands into fists at his sides, his jaw set.

"Marcel was here."

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 1: I mention Esther killed Tatia and yes, I know it was actually Elijah, but this is TO season 1. At this point, neither Klaus or Elijah knew about that yet. They only find out in season 2, when Esther comes back and opens that whole red door nonsense and then Elijah remembers he was the one who murdered the woman he loved (and a lot of crappy existential crisis ensue). At this point, all Klaus knows is that Esther killed Tatia to use her doppelganger blood to perform her spells.
> 
> A/N 2: I KNOW a lot of you will say you missed a Klaroline sweet moment here, and I agree. I love writing those moments. But I really needed the stuff that happens in this chapter to happen like this because it triggers a lot of events going forward. Klaus has to be in a certain mind frame for things to happen as they should, if you know what I mean. Either way, I feel like this is a necessary moment for Klaus and Elijah in the story. So I hope you can forgive me for this and still appreciate the update and where the story is going and just in case anyone gets worried, DON'T. Elijah and Caroline are not going to be a thing, I promise. I just want the drama.
> 
> A/N 3: I'm thinking I might have to add two more chapters to this story. :( What do you guys think?
> 
> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! :) Drop me a note and let me know your thoughts!


	7. S01E07 Bloodletting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is by far the longest chapter so far. It's a little beast, and I'm sorry if that makes it hard to read. You'll realize why it had to be so long as you do.
> 
> If you've watched TO, you know what's about to happen, and I hope you enjoy the slight twist I have to the story! If you haven't, I hope you still enjoy it anyways. :) It's a major point in this first part of the story, kind of a first checkpoint I assigned myself to stop and realize if I'm doing any good with this rewriting. So I really, really hope you guys enjoy it. And, please, let me know your thoughts! If you think this has been worth your time so far and you still want to see where it'll go, drop me a note, send a message, whatever! :) I'm always super eager to know your thoughts! Your feedback is great encouragement!
> 
> As always, I ask you to please excuse my many mistakes. And a big shout-out to [coveredinthecolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/pseuds/coveredinthecolors) for her support, encouragement, for lending me her time to read this through and for listening to me babble about this goddamn story without complaints. ❤
> 
> Thank you for reading!

For once in his life, Elijah doesn't feel at all like fighting Niklaus' unorthodox, impulsive ways of handling problems. On the contraire. He's quite pleased to join in.

They take a moment to consider the situation and possible repercussions as they feed. After the day they’ve had, and the night still ahead of them, it's important to replenish their strengths. Niklaus wanted to head straight to the French Quarter and leave a trail of fresh kills behind them to send a message, but, miraculously enough, Elijah managed to convince him otherwise. Anything that could be perceived as an affront at this point might be dangerous; Marcel, after all, still holds the upper hand.

If he denies them what they want, then, by all means. Bodies will pile up all around the Quarter, humans, witches and vampires alike.

Elijah is quite done with diplomacy.

Marcel has come into their home and taken Caroline from under their roofs. Killing a mob of insufferable tourists is not even remotely close to the brand of punishment he deserves.

But Marcellus is not the only one Elijah resents. It's safe to say he's even angrier with himself. How could they have been so careless? After everything they've already been through... Disaster keeps charging at them, relentlessly, and they keep opening themselves up for it.

There are plenty of lessons to be learned here. But Elijah will have to store them up for later analysis. Right now, they need to get Marcel to return what he took. And possibly prepare for a slaughter, in the off chance he'll be short-sighted enough to call the bluff on two irate Originals.

When they get to the compound, dawn is only a couple of hours away, so the place is crawling with nightwalkers enjoying the last of their freedom. They appear to be holding some kind of primitive fighting competition, while Marcel oversees everything from the second floor. A king watching over his subjects.

Elijah can suddenly see why Klaus is so disgusted by Marcel's new self-proclaimed status. It is outrageous, when he remembers that they were the ones to build not only the city, but the very place he now dares to call home. It's also rather laughable; they can take it all back in a second if they so desire. If Marcel has any sense in him, he'll consider himself lucky they have more important things to concern themselves with at the moment and _behave_. But his brother’s influence over the younger man might’ve been greater than Elijah remembers; he seems to have inherited Niklaus' penchant for flirting with danger with reckless abandon.

As soon as one of the fights ends, while everyone cheers and howls in excitement and Marcel smiles down upon his minions, Niklaus decides they've waited long enough. He whooshes into the center circle and snaps the neck of the victorious vampire as though it were a twig.

Silence descends upon the compound like rain.

"Good evening," his brother says. "I'd like a word."

Niklaus can be... Quite dramatic. But Elijah can't really claim that his methods are ineffective. He knows how to captivate an audience.

"What are you doing?" Marcel asks, his easy smile morphing into a scowl.

"It appears," Elijah says, cutting through the crowd to join Klaus. "We're interrupting a collection of filthy amateurs. We're here for the girl. Give her to us and no one has to get hurt."

"Or we kill everyone here," Klaus adds with a grim smile. "Starting with you."

"You two got a lot of nerve, coming into my home and making demands."

"Your home, is it?" Niklaus quips.

"The girl, Marcel," Elijah repeats, emphatically. "You don't know the night we've had. Don't push us."

Marcel grins. "I assume you're talking about Caroline. Yay high, blonde hair. A bit of an attitude. I'm curious. Who is she, anyway?"

"She's an old friend. You know how sentimental I am about old friends," Klaus says, bleeding irony.

"Well, I ain't got her," Marcel says with a mindless shrug. "And before you start whining — I did pay her a little visit earlier tonight. I was feeling nostalgic, so I took a trip to the plantation where I used to be a _slave_. Imagine my surprise when I realized that the Original family had taken up residence. And not just that! A mysterious girl I hadn't had the pleasure of meeting yet answered the door. Just the strangest thing... I could sense werewolf stench all over her." He makes a face, bobbing his head towards Klaus. "I imagine that's you."

"Where is she?" Klaus hisses through gritted teeth, his eyes flashing yellow. Marcel won't last too long if he keeps challenging his brother like his. He does not seem to understand what being a _hybrid_ actually means.

Right now, Elijah wouldn't be entirely opposed to a demonstration.

"My visit was brief and courteous. Just saying hi to the neighborhood. We exchanged hellos. That was it. I don't have her, and I have no idea where she is. Don't believe me, look around. Hell, I'll even help you find her. But the question I'd ask is..." He leans over the railing, a wolfish smile full of teeth curling up his lips. "If Caroline isn't here, then where is she?"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

As though for the millionth time in less than a week, Caroline wakes up very confused, a dull throb in her head, and no idea how she ended up in a... what is it this time? A car?

She stays very still, trying to gather her wits. It's definitely a car. A _moving_ car. Her feet and hands are tied, which means definitely kidnapped.

 _Again_.

_Holy freaking shit._

This time she didn't even see what got her, didn't even have a chance to react. Marcel had just left, she was panicking out of her freaking mind and went to find her cell phone to call Klaus or Elijah or _anyone_. She searched the whole house and realized she must've had it with her when they took her to the pool and went outside to retrieve it, making sure to take a fire poker with her in case there were any vampires lurking.

With Marcel close, it didn't feel like a smart choice to use magic and give herself away. He had sensed the werewolf baby, she's certain of it, by the way he looked at her stomach with intrigue. But he had no way of knowing she is a witch, and, at least for the time being, she'd prefer to keep it like that. So baby-powered werewolf strength would have to do. But she didn't even see her attacker. All she knows is one second she was by the pool, then someone shoved a cloth on her face and now she's here.

Won't those fucking witches ever _stop_?

Caroline lifts her head, twisting her body to try and see anything. There's just one person in the car with her, who seems to be a man. It shouldn't be that difficult then… She has no idea where she is, though. It looks very dark outside and she can see a lot of trees, so they're not anywhere near the city. Possibly the Bayou. _Great_ , she thinks, vaguely wondering whether the werewolves will be out there to give her a helping claw again in case it gets ugly.

She tries to twist out of her ropes, as quietly as possible, but the knots are _very_ tight. Whoever took her knows their knots. Unlike the last time, when the witches tried to ambush her very clumsily, this time they came prepared.

Element of surprise, then. If she manages to break the back window, she can stun him with magic when he comes to investigate and get the fuck out of there.

That's a plan, then.

Taking a deep breath, Caroline starts kicking the window with all her might. The glass doesn't shatter, but it cracks easily. Just a couple more kicks and—

They come to an abrupt stop. The driver jumps out, moving around the car.

That's it, then. Show time.

When he finally pulls the trunk open, Caroline grinds her teeth and kicks at him with all her strength, preparing to charge with magic next, but the man holds her feet as though it was nothing. Like she doesn't have all this werewolf stamina coursing through her. Like he's—

"Seriously, Caroline?"

She freezes. Her heart skips a couple of beats when she finally sees his face, a violent shudder rushing through at the familiar voice.

She can't even say it's the last person she thought she would see because it didn't even cross her mind, not for one second, that it might be him. That she'd ever see him out here in the Bayou. Or anywhere else, for that matter.

Slack-jawed and wide-eyed, she half-sputters, half-breathes, "Tyler?"

"Don't try to fight me. You know you can't beat a hybrid."

He pulls her to him and, putting his hand under her body, throws her over his shoulder.

"Tyler!" she cries, still too stunned to properly react and not so sure anymore if she wants to hurt him. "What are you doing? Put me down!"

"Shut up."

He turns around and starts walking, carrying her deeper into the Bayou.

Just what the fucking hell is going on?

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"What is taking so long?" Klaus grumbles, pacing around the courtyard while they wait for Marcel to return.

His former protégé has promised to help them find Caroline, although he hasn't explained exactly how. As dawn approaches, the riffraff he calls friends have disbanded, scurrying back to the sewers where they'll hide until the next nightfall. Only a handful of his inner circle, the ones with daylight rings, are still loitering around — _watching_ them, Klaus realizes.

Marcellus has a lot of nerve. Using the house that _he_ built to serve as shelter for a bunch of lowlife street rats and then leaving them waiting with men keeping eyes on them like he and Elijah are beggars, trespassers at their own _home_.

He should know better than to annoy Klaus when he's in one of his moods. Marcel is lucky he hasn't murdered anyone yet. But that won't remain so for much longer if he doesn't—

A woman comes in through the front gate. No, not a woman. A _witch_. Without having to ask, he knows it's the infamous Sabine, who has been acting oh, so friendly towards Caroline. Klaus has every reason not to feel gracious about witches, especially the ones in Sophie Deveraux's coven, but this Sabine stands out, rubbing him all the wrong ways, and his millennium old sixth sense rarely ever fails him.

His hostility must register on his face, because as soon as she meets his eyes, she stops, lifting her hands in the air in a peaceful sign. "Marcel sent for me. He's magnanimously allowed me to use a locator spell to find Caroline. Apparently you two lost her? Again," she says, distaste turning down the corners of her lips.

Klaus' mouth thins so visibly that Elijah has to put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from assaulting the witch.

"Where is Marcellus?" he asks her.

Sabine shrugs. "Marcel doesn't exactly share his plans with the witches, you know. And anyway, I'm here to help."

"Then get to work, sweetheart," Klaus snarls.

"Niklaus," Elijah admonishes. "Can you find her?"

"I can try." She retrieves a map of New Orleans from inside her purse and opens it on a table, smoothing the edges down. "I need something of hers."

Klaus finds a bowl left forgotten around the courtyard and bites down on his own hand. It's not exactly something of Caroline's, but if she finds the baby, she'll find the mother. Sabine wrinkles up her nose, not trying to hide her disapproval.

"I was thinking more of something like a hairbrush or a necklace."

"I don't care what you were thinking. Now hurry up," Klaus says, giving her a hard look as he puts the bowl down on top of the map.

He'll give her half an hour to find Caroline. If she fails, he'll consider it justified to rip her heart out and put his unsettling feelings about her to rest.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

After a while, Caroline just stops fighting. It's useless. All Tyler does is tell her to shut up and tighten his grip on her legs.

She could, of course, hurt him. But it's Tyler, and even though his behavior is sending all sorts of alarm bells ringing, Caroline doesn't really want to attack him. Although it would be totally justified, considering he has her tied up and thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes for the past thirty minutes. It's an uncomfortable position, but she just takes a deep breath and tries not to squirm too much.

Wherever he's taking her, they can't be very far. They're almost at the river already. Unless he's planning to set sail down the Mississippi, in which case — well, she's gonna have to give him that splitting headache she's been holding back on.

Part of her is curious. Just what exactly is Tyler up to? Clearly he's pissed off, which tells her he must've found out about the baby. But how? No one in Mystic Falls knows and even in New Orleans there are very few people in on the loop. Unless...

It suddenly occurs to Caroline that he could've been the wolf who saved her from the mad witches the other day. It wasn't a full moon, so it must have been a wolf that can turn at will. And, as far as she knows, Tyler is one of the only two in the world who can do that.

But if he saved her life, then why is he suddenly so mad at her?

All these questions are one half of the reason why she hasn't struck back. The other half is guilt.

Caroline didn't play along with the lies they spread around Mystic Falls to justify her sudden disappearance _just_ because she didn't want them to be put in danger. It was that, too, especially about her mother, who she knows would never let her pregnant daughter on her own in New Orleans if she could help. Liz would definitely have a target on her back. However... She'd be lying if she said the fact she has no idea where to even start explaining the situation to her friends didn't play a huge part in it, too.

Klaus did a lot of _really_ crappy things he'll never be forgiven for back home. He killed people. Destroyed lives. Ruined relationship just for the kicks. They all have very strong personal reasons to detest Klaus and for wanting him dead. Hell, _she_ has wanted him dead for the majority of the time they've known each other.

But at some point things changed, and Tyler left, and Caroline didn't hate Klaus as much as she should anymore, and she never meant to make light of everyone's feelings for Klaus, but that's probably what they would think if they knew she slept with him.

It's not easy explaining to your friends how you might have complicated feelings for the worst person in the world. And then on top of that, that you also, incidentally, happen to be pregnant with his miracle baby.

Well.

Caroline was too much of a mess for the first few weeks there to even consider telling anyone. And, despite having made considerable progress since, she doesn't think she has fully come to terms with it yet. Not in a way that allows her to voice the myriad of things in her head in a coherent form. This is no small deal. It's mind-blowing, life-changing. She's gonna need a minute.

To say she isn't ready to face anybody is an understatement. Tyler least of all.

He left her for Hayley and broke her heart, but he's also probably the person with the most reason to hate Klaus out of everyone in Mystic Falls, and that's saying something.

That the first person from back home that she'll have to face about this happens to be the ex-boyfriend whose life her baby daddy completely wrecked is giving her some anxiety spikes here.

When Tyler finally puts her down, dawn has already broken. He's taken her to what seems to be an old hunter's cabin by the river. Abandoned, by the looks of it. There's no one else around.

With relative gentleness, he sits her down on the cabin's entrance. Then he pulls a Swiss knife from his jacket.

"What are you gonna do with that?" Caroline asks, recoiling defensively, finally ready to snap his neck if it comes to it.

"Depends on you," he says, approaching her tentatively. When she convinces herself he's not threatening her — not with the knife, anyway — she allows him to come closer. Tyler crouches down in front of her and cuts the ties around her ankles.

"You attacked me," she says, not doing a good job at concealing the hurt. "You ambushed me in my own backyard."

"It's not your backyard. It's Klaus'." Tyler shoots her a dagger filled look. His voice was even, but Caroline felt all the sharp edges of his reproach. Of his _revulsion_. She makes a face, eyes wandering away from him. "Oh yeah. I know you've been shacked up in a mansion with that psycho for months. A long way from the girl I fell in love with in Mystic Falls."

His words send a pang shooting right through her, even though it probably shouldn't. "It's not what you think. A lot has happened since the last time I saw you."

"You mean like how you didn't even wait for me to get far before you slept with Klaus?"

Caroline's jaw sets. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" His gaze dips, fixing on her belly. Instinctively, she places her still tied hands on top of it. It makes a muscle twitch on Tyler's face. "And now you're carrying his miracle child." He spits it out like an accusation, words coated in venom.

"How did you -"

"I know all about your hybrid baby, Care. I can hear its heartbeats right now. It's a little werewolf, did you know that?"

"Tyler -"

"After I fled home," he continues, raising his tone to cut her off. "You know, running for my life after your baby daddy killed my mother and put a bounty on my head... I ended up tagging along with a pack from Tennessee that had just been to Louisiana. They had this amazing story. Apparently the werewolves around this area, the few ones still alive, were talking about a magical baby. They seem to believe it's some kind of royalty or whatever. Klaus' werewolf line goes far back, but it's tied to this place, somehow. This, right here, is everything that's left of them."

 _What everything?_ Caroline wants to ask. There's absolutely nothing there. But Tyler's story confirms something she suspected. Klaus and the werewolves in the Bayou are distantly related, which means they're her daughter's family too.

But what is this about royalty?

She hears the sound of branches snapping, and when she lifts her gaze, there's a woman. Young, blonde, spying from behind a tree. Caroline has no idea where she came from, but she must be one of the wolves.

"Hey!" Caroline calls, standing to her feet. The woman immediately dashes off, disappearing between the trees.

"They can't help you, Care. They're in the woods hiding because they've been persecuted for decades and decimated by vampires. Like the ones in your new family."

"That's not—"

The cabin door opens behind her, and Caroline snaps around like a thunder. It's a big guy, wearing worn jeans and a plaid shirt. He gives her a cursory once over, then nods towards Tyler.

"That her?"

"Yeah, Dwayne," Tyler says. "Get her inside."

Dwayne charges for her, and Caroline tries to get away, but Tyler holds her in place so the guy can grab her by her wrists and drag her towards the cabin.

"Tyler," she calls out, more than a little afraid now. "Tyler, what are you doing? Tyler!"

But he's not listening anymore, just turns on his heels and goes in the same direction the woman rushed off to, while Dwayne pushes her inside and shuts the door.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline's in the backcountry, way out past Houma, deep in the Bayou.

That's what Sabine said. Elijah wanted her to be more precise, but that's as precise as her magic would go. Not much for a start - there's miles and miles to cover deep in the Bayou - but it's something.

"There are stories of exiled werewolves. Encampments. If Caroline went out that far, chances are, she went to find them," Sabine said, offering some more insight. "It's not the witches this time," she added when Klaus eyed her with suspicion. "I haven't heard anything. If it is, they're working alone, not with the coven, so I doubt it. After what happened to Agnes, everyone's gone quiet." She looked at Elijah then, not trying to disguise the bitterness in her tone.

"Wonderful to know you lot have finally learned your lesson," Niklaus said. "But why would Caroline want to find werewolves?"

"She's been curious. A wolf saved her life from the witch death squad. She thinks a wolf was trying to protect the baby, that they might be connected. Through you," Elijah offered.

His brother's eyes sparkled with malice. "You and Caroline have been talking a lot, have you not? Did she confide her concerns over her child's heritage to you over a pillow talk, by any chance?"

That was the point where Elijah got up and went to get the car, not willing to waste any time entertaining Niklaus' jealous insinuations while there were clearly more important things to do. But Elijah can sense that was not the end of that discussion. All the way to the Bayou, his brother shot dagger-filled looks at him, the silence in the car razor-sharp as Klaus' thoughts practically screamed with the things he was not saying. Knowing Niklaus, it's only a matter of time before he starts spilling nonsense.

He's been like this since Elijah returned home. He talks of wanting to make amends, but then every time Elijah so much as looks at Caroline, he starts acting as though he'd gladly put him back in a box and drop him in the middle of the Atlantic. Pouting like a child, snapping at everyone. And the situation with the needle of sorrows and Caroline’s subsequent disappearance has left him on edge.

Elijah can feel the storm brewing on the horizon. All he can do is hope that they find Caroline before Niklaus snaps. A missing pregnant girl and an unhinged brother are too much to deal with at once.

When they reach the area Sabine indicated, Elijah parks the car. They'll cover more ground on foot than trying to drive any further off the beaten path.

"We should head south towards the water. That's likely where the werewolves are."

"You're very determined," Klaus says, following him into the woods. "I should be the one to do this."

"If I'm moving too fast for you, Niklaus, you're welcome to wait in the car. Do be certain to leave the windows down."

"Ah, so I've touched a nerve. You've begun to admire her. Perhaps that's why you've been barking orders since your return, hoping to impress Caroline by assuming the role of family patriarch. The _good_ brother, is it not?"

Elijah stops, whipping around to face Niklaus. He prides himself on being the most level-headed of the Mikaelsons, but trust his beloved brother to know exactly how to make him lose his temper. He can feel a vein popping on his forehead. "If Caroline has found it wise to deposit her faith in me, it's your own fault for treating her like a walking incubator."

A snarl crosses his brother's face, and he seems poised on barking out a response, but he goes suddenly still, facing away as though picking something in the wind.

"Have you found her scent?"

"No," he says, grinding his teeth. "But I've found someone else's."

Elijah follows him to an abandoned truck parked a distance away. It's not exactly hidden, more like someone just gave up on driving and decided to go on foot from there. There are signs of struggle, which makes Elijah concerned. As Niklaus starts rummaging through the things inside the car, Elijah can definitely catch the scent of werewolf all over the place, but nothing recognizable to him.

"This vehicle reeks of someone I thought I was rid of," Klaus grunts. "Tyler Lockwood." He spits out the name like it's a curse. Elijah remembers the boy vaguely from Mystic Falls. Klaus' first hybrid.

"Why would your little hybrid sidekick have any interest in Caroline?"

Klaus' nostrils flare, but he doesn't reply, just jumps into the back of the car and continues to search through what looks to be pure garbage. Empty food cartons, beer bottles, pieces of clothing. "She's been here."

"Niklaus," Elijah admonishes, sensing his brother's attempt to evade the question. "What does Tyler Lockwood want with Caroline? I thought Rebekah had compelled everyone in Mystic Falls to believe she'd gone to college in California."

"Tyler wasn't in Mystic Falls. I banned him from ever returning."

"What?"

Klaus sighs impatiently. "Tyler was loyal in the beginning, but he grew insubordinate. Met this werewolf girl called Hayley and together they turned all my other hybrids against me. So I was forced to retaliate by massacring the lot of them. Tyler ran like a coward before I could get to him. So instead... I paid a little visit to his mum." He smirks, actually proud of himself.

Elijah, on the other hand, is _not_ impressed. "You killed his mother?"

"He deserved it," he says, shrugging. "I would've done nothing to her if he'd stayed to face the consequences of his own actions."

"That's wonderful, Niklaus. Marcel's vampires, the French Quarter witches and now your old friends, all going for the mother of your child."

Klaus purses his lips with distaste. "The thing with Tyler is... More personal."

"Of course it is, you murdered his family."

"Not because of that. I went after his girl."

"His girl?" Klaus gives him a pointed look. Elijah arches his eyebrows, eyes widening slightly as he takes in the expression on his brother's face. "Caroline? Caroline cheated on him with you?"

"She didn't cheat. I certainly tried, but Caroline was foolishly in love with her idiotic boyfriend. It was only after he left that she was finally willing to acknowledge our connection. I'm not entirely sure that makes much of a difference to him."

Elijah sighs, shaking his head. "Niklaus..."

"What? I never forced her. Caroline came to me out of her own free will."

"You knew there was a man out there — a _hybrid_ — hell bent on seeking revenge on you, while his ex-girlfriend, whom you stole, carries your child and you didn't think it was important to mention it?"

"How was I to know he'd get word of it when no one in Mystic Falls knows? Moreover, Tyler's nothing. I can crush him with my thumb."

"What if he crushes Caroline first?"

Klaus fixes him with a cool glare. "You do care about her, don't you? Well, go on then, brother. Here’s your chance. Save her. Maybe she'll be so grateful and charmed by her gallant prince she'll finally realize she's had her eyes set on the wrong Mikaelson all along. Isn't that what you want? She's going to make you break a sweat for it, Elijah, but let me tell you, she is _worth it_."

Elijah shuts his eyes against the venom in his brother's words. “Do you ever _think_ before you speak?” Paranoia robs his brother of any shred of reason, to the point all he sees is red, possessed by an incoherent desire to lash out. If Caroline was to hear him talk like this, she'd never look him in the eye again. "Niklaus, so help me God -"

" _Enough_ ," he rages, pointing a finger to Elijah's face. "I'll kill Tyler Lockwood myself."

With that, Niklaus flashes away, disappearing from sight.

Not the wolves. Not the witches. A _hybrid_. And Caroline’s ex-boyfriend.

This is going to be a lot trickier than Elijah thought.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline flexes her hands against the discomfort of the too tight grip around her wrists binding her to an old iron stove inside the cabin.

She's considering how fast Marcel would be able to find her if she were to use magic to set herself free. After he lost four of his werewolves on the attack at the French Quarter, she thinks he might be more careful. But being _more careful_ for a vampire such as him might actually mean being more ruthless. He knows of her now, knows she's pregnant with a werewolf baby, but he's got no idea it's Klaus' and that she's a witch. Anything that escapes Marcel's knowledge is an advantage.

But she's getting really fed up with this situation.

Honestly, she doesn't want to hurt Tyler. Despite all the obvious lingering hard feelings, she was in love with him not that long ago. For the longest time, she was convinced he was her all and all, that they were destined to be together for the rest of her life.

Alas, it was not to be, and their lives have pulled them apart in unimaginable ways since then. Her time with Tyler feels like a lifetime ago. But she can understand his resentment, even if he's completely misguided in several of his assumptions and in thinking that she actually owes him anything after he dumped her for that backstabbing werewolf slut.

Klaus killed his mother, he's hurt. Caroline's not entirely without sympathy. But that does not give Tyler the right to kidnap her, tie her up and take her to the middle of the freaking bog against her will. And what the hell does he want, anyway? Is he trying to use her as a decoy to ambush Klaus? Because if that's the case, Tyler's going to end up dead. He's insane if he thinks he can take on Klaus, let alone on the entire Mikaelson family. Despite the incredibly abusive treatment Tyler is giving her, she really does not want him to die.

But keep her tied up her for another hour in extreme discomfort and she might have a change of heart.

People should really know better than to mess with a pregnant lady. Especially one who has been suffering homicidal attacks at least once a week. Caroline is _so_ done with this shit.

The door of the cabin opens and it's Tyler again, no sign of Dwayne, who left after tying her up. He seems to register on her displeasure immediately, smiling to himself.

"Not exactly as cozy as that mansion Klaus put you in, huh?"

"Would you just stop? I didn't _ask_ to be taken in by the Mikaelsons."

"You didn't exactly look like you were uncomfortable with it either when I found you."

"When you jumped me, you mean." Tyler shrugs. "How long have you been around?"

"Not long."

"I know it's very unlikely, given your obvious feelings about my pregnancy, but I have to ask. A wolf saved my life a few weeks ago. It protected me like I was a part of its pack. Or the baby, anyway. It wasn't a full moon, so I wonder... Was that you, by any chance?"

"No."

"Right. Of course not."

"Do you even know what happened to the wolves in this area?"

"Should I?"

"Well, if you're so curious about that wolf who saved your life... They were cursed, Caroline. By the witches, at Marcel Gerard's request. Many years ago, he killed most of the wolves in this area. And then later, when some descendants came to age, he got a witch to put a spell on them."

"What kind of spell?"

"One that swaps nature around, inside out. It made it so their natural state is wolf form. They only turn back human on the full moon."

"Why would a vampire want a bunch of werewolves to be stuck in the form they're most dangerous to vampires?"

"Because that keeps them out of the city, dehumanizes them. As wolves, they would never be allowed in the French Quarter. So they were forced to settle here, in the Bayou, like wild animals. Only a handful of them haven't been caught in the curse, mostly the ones who were too young back then or hadn't triggered their genes yet. Most of those left after a while, tired of the squalor they were forced to live in. So what's left of the once powerful packs of New Orleans are either stuck in wolf form, or too weakened to pose a real threat."

"Damn," Caroline murmurs sheepishly. She can't even begin to fathom what it must be like to be trapped in a wolf body for years. It's part of their nature, but it's so barbaric to dehumanize an entire people like this. Marcel really did pick up a lot from his time as an honorary Mikaelson. "I had no idea."

"Of course not. Why would you have any interest in what goes on beyond the glass walls of your palace?"

"That's not fair, Tyler."

"Know what is not fair? That baby you're carrying. Not fair, and not natural either."

Caroline's expression twists in annoyance, and she feels her blood begin to boil in her veins. The derision in Tyler's tone makes her overprotective instincts kick in again.

"The entire Original family has made a pact to keep the baby safe, Tyler," she warns him. "If they find out you brought me here—"

"Oh, yes. Your new boyfriend is a very territorial guy. He's not gonna be happy to hear you're spending time with an ex."

"He's not my boyfriend," she speaks slowly through gritted teeth.

"He's something much worse than that."

"Do you think I _wanted_ this? That I _chose_ to get pregnant with some impossible hybrid baby and _begged_ to be brought into a war that has absolutely nothing to do with me?"

"Did Klaus rape you?"

Caroline stops, taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"Did he rape you? Because if that's not the case, and I don't think it is, otherwise you wouldn't be living with him, then you're just as much to blame as he is. You slept with him. Nobody made you. What do you think your mother would say if she knew she's going to be the grandma of Klaus Mikaelson's baby?"

Caroline looks away, because the thought makes her stomach tie up in knots. She tries not to think too much about her mother, otherwise she'll spend all her days consumed by guilt and being sorry for herself. They still talk on the phone every now and then, but Caroline always ends up feeling worse than before when she invariably has to make up a bunch of lies about a college life that doesn't exist when all she really wants is to confess.

There are so many things she wants to ask her mom, about being pregnant, about being a mother, about having children... The fear of being a disappointment always holds her back. Not only because she's lying and not in college like her mom always wanted her to be, but because she's carrying Klaus' baby. Liz managed to steer clear off the Mikaelson drama while the family was in Mystic Falls, which is a miracle, but she hates them just as much as the next person, especially after Carol. Just to imagine what her mother would think if she knew...

"I know you haven't told her," Tyler continues when she fails to offer a reply. "Matt called me when Klaus left and as soon as I heard, I went back. Everyone was saying you'd left for college on the other side of the country, but that wasn't like the Caroline I knew. All you babbled about since freshman year was how you were gonna go to Whitmore with Bonnie and Elena. So I knew there was something off there. And then I found out that you had mysteriously disappeared without even saying goodbye right about the same time Klaus did. With all the rumors of a magical baby I'd heard... It wasn't hard to put 2 and 2 together. You always did have a thing for him. You denied it, but... I could see it. It's pathetic, really, how easily you fell for his crap. The man who ruined my life. Who manipulated me to pull us apart. Who _killed_ my mother and a dozen other people. And my own girlfriend couldn't wait to jump in bed with him. You're the biggest disappointment of my life, Caroline. I hope you know that."

Caroline blinks at him, momentarily taken aback by Tyler's story, wound like an accusation. But when the blow finally lands, it doesn't make her feel remorse or regret. It makes her _furious_.

" _I'm_ a disappointment?" she starts, her voice escalating. "Remember when your werewolf friends almost killed me because I tried to free my friends — _our_ friends — and you did _nothing_? Remember when I held your hand through your first full moon because you were scared and alone? How I put myself in danger just to be there for you, even though you were a jerk to me most of the time? Remember when _you_ almost killed me by ripping my throat open with your shiny teeth?”

"Because Klaus told me to!" he protests.

"And you couldn't fight it! You could fight your compulsion for your werewolf friends, but not for me. _Never_ for me. Stefan fought the compulsion for Elena, so don't give me that crap that it was impossible. You never cared enough, Tyler. You left me for months and I called you _every single day_ , cried myself to sleep _every night_ , but you never answered. And when you finally came back, it was with _her_."

"Because she's the one who helped me break the sire bond."

"And what the hell was I?! I was your friend when you needed one the most, Tyler. I _fought_ for us every step of the way. And even after you came back, I still stood by you. I thought _I_ was the one who'd done something wrong, that _I_ had to win _you_ back. And when I told you she was up to no good, you thought I was just being jealous. And then you put your hybrid friends to watch me like I was a traitor."

Tyler's eyes flash. "Because you were trying to save his life."

"I was trying to save everyone! Including you! And as it turned out, including _them_. If you'd listened to _me_ , your hybrid friends would be unsired and probably still alive. Your _girlfriend_ who you trusted so much, tricked you and then _she_ saved Klaus' life. It was her freaking plan all along. And _I'm_ the disappointment? I _loved_ you. I loved you when you turned on me, when you left me, when you came back with someone else. I asked you to run away with me. Remember? But your stupid revenge plan against Klaus was more important. You never gave a shit about me. You were just comfortable having someone who was willing to sacrifice everything for you in a second. You never tried to understand me, never even bothered getting to know me. When I remember what our relationship was like, all I can think of is you having some major drama in your life while I had to swallow down my problems and my needs because you were always more important. My entire life has been about other people. Doing things for other people, being the person other people expect me to be. Do you know who saw me for who I am? Who took the time to actually understand me? _Learn_ me? _Klaus_. He showed me kindness when I was in pain and alone and no one seemed to care. So yes, I slept with him. _One time_. And my life has been a royal mess ever since. But do you know what?" Caroline leans forward, words tumbling out of her mouth, catching fire as they go. "I regret nothing."

She's saying all that to get under his skin, obviously — and by the look on Tyler's face and the way his lips curl into a snarl, it works — but she surprises herself by realizing she means every word. Tyler broke her heart, repeatedly. She was so dumb in love with him that he didn't even have to try very hard to have her wrapped around his little finger. All he had to do was be a tiny bit better as a boyfriend and Caroline would've probably never slept with Klaus, never stopped pining after him, even after Hayley. It's ridiculous to think about it now, but she was always ready to forgive him. He just had to say the word.

Even with the pregnancy — which, she won't deny it, is a huge inconvenience, more so to herself than to anyone else — Caroline doesn't feel that sleeping with Klaus was a mistake. The consequences may have been less than favorable, but the time they spent together in itself didn't feel wrong. It made sense. He wanted it. She wanted it. It was great. The fact Klaus was mostly regarded as an evil villain capable of the most terrible acts suddenly didn't seem as important as the fact he made her feel good. Accepted. Wanted. And that she knew, deep in her heart, that whatever he felt for her, it was genuine. Even if it was fleeting, even if he got over her the next day; in that moment, it was true. And that's all that mattered.

Caroline refuses to be made to feel guilty for being attracted to him, like that's some grand betrayal on the entire city of Mystic Falls. Yes, Klaus is terrible. But so is Damon. So is Katherine. So is Rebekah. So is freaking Hayley. And no one seemed to have any quarrels about sleeping with them. Why is she the only one who's held to a certain standard when everyone else gets a pass?

Screw that. And screw Tyler, too.

Before they can continue their argument, however, Dwayne returns. Tyler eyes her angrily, his mouth pressed into a fine line. "Are you ready?" he asks Dwayne, who nods. "Then let's start."

He turns around, searching for something in a bag, retrieving syringe with a giant needle.

Caroline's entire body goes rigid. "What is that for, Tyler?"

"Relax. We'll just make a little test," he says, approaching her with tentative steps.

"Tyler," she warns. "Don't do this. You don't want to do this. Please."

He stops a few steps from her, a hard shield in his dark eyes. "Klaus destroyed everything good in my life. So I'm gonna take away the thing he wants most."

Using all his hybrid speed, he launches towards her, sticking the needle in her belly. Caroline screams, eyes wide in terror. She doesn't even think, just twists her wrists as much as she can, invoking her magic and sending him flying onto the opposite wall, the needle going with him.

She's panting in shock as Tyler groans, pulling himself up. "Damn it," he curses. "I forgot you could do that."

"What the hell did you do, Tyler?!"

He retrieves the syringe, looking at the little blood he managed to collect. "I think we have enough." In one swift movement, he turns to Dwayne and stabs him in the neck, injecting him with Caroline's blood, and then snapping the man's neck. He tumbles to the ground. Dead.

Caroline gasps, her mouth agape.

It's exactly what Klaus did to him right in front of her all those years ago.

"Don't get all judgy," Tyler says, picking up Dwayne and dragging him to the door. "Dwayne knew what he was getting into. He volunteered."

"To die?!"

"Dwayne here is a werewolf, and he died with your blood in his system. The same blood you share with you hybrid baby."

Caroline narrows her eyes in disbelief at him. "You're trying to turn him into a hybrid? Are you out of your mind? You need doppelganger blood for that."

"I met a witch a while back, when I was trying to piece together the mystery of your disappearance. She was tight with a wolf pack I knew. She had nightmare visions about your baby and how Klaus would use its blood to make a new army of hybrid slaves."

Caroline scoffs, all indignation. "I am _sick_ of these witches and their premonitions about my baby. It's just a baby."

"Maybe. Maybe not. We'll know better when Dwayne here wakes up," he says, kicking Dwayne's boot. "Or if he doesn't. But he was happy to be the test case. If you haven't noticed, these people don't have much to live for. The problem is, all hybrids are sired to Klaus. They will follow his every move. There's no way I'll let that happen again."

"How can you be so sure Klaus knows what the baby's blood will do? He didn’t even know he could get anybody pregnant."

Tyler lets out a sardonic laugh. "Seriously, Caroline? Are you so infatuated with him that you've become blind? Klaus Mikaelson, killer of men, women and puppies, all of a sudden wants to be a daddy? Or... He's got an ulterior motive. I know he's in a bit of a feud with Marcel Gerard. With his new hybrids, he could take over New Orleans in less than a day, and you know what's gonna stop him then? Nothing. I'm sorry to break it to you, Care, but it seems like Klaus is just using you same as he's used everyone else." He smiles an ugly smile then, self-satisfied and mean. Such a distance from the boy Caroline fell in love with. She wonders if Tyler was always like this, and she was too in love to notice, or if the hatred he harbors towards Klaus has consumed him so completely that it's turned him into this despicable little person. "You're not so special after all."

With a loud gasp, Dwayne rises from the dead, clawing at his throat. Caroline winces as cold spreads beneath her skin. She watches as the werewolf man scrambles to his feet, panting, as Tyler tries to hold him down. This shouldn't be possible. Her baby is not a vampire, her blood shouldn't be able to turn werewolves into hybrids. If that part of the process worked, then that means...

"Easy, Dwayne. Easy," Tyler says, a firm grip on the man's shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes. "Welcome back."

He glances at Caroline, something dark and unreadable in his eyes, and for a moment she thinks she knows what he's going to do. The blood isn't enough to make hybrids. Back in Mystic Falls, they had to feed on Elena. And since they're clearly short on doppelgangers...

Caroline looks at him with a silent plea, and Tyler turns back to Dwayne. For just a second there, he looked almost remorseful, guilty. A shadow of the boy she used to love.

"There's blood left in the syringe," he says, removing the needle from the discarded syringe to feed Dwayne with the last of her blood. It's not much, but Caroline knows they don't need much to complete the transition.

Dwayne starts to scream, his whole body convulsing as though he were catching fire. He scrambles for the door and runs out of the cabin. Tyler looks back at her, arching his eyebrows as though saying _See? I was right_ , before following the man outside.

Caroline is frozen for a second, trying to grasp her mind around what she just witnessed.

Her daughter's blood can sire new hybrids.

Isn't that everything Klaus always wanted? Isn't that the whole reason why he stayed in Mystic Falls for as long as he did, just so he could use Elena as a living blood bank?

Dark panic threatens to take over, but Caroline shakes it off and decides to focus on the problem at hand first. She'll deal with the consequences of this discovery later; now, she needs to get the hell out of here.

As the situation is not looking promising for her with Tyler, Caroline decides that it's worth taking the risk of having Marcel learning about the magic. If she's fast enough, she can be far away from here by the time his vampires show up. In a quick once over, she sees that Tyler left the knife he used to cut the ties around her ankles on the table, so she conjures a quick spell to bring the knife to her, using it to free herself. Before she can escape, however, Tyler comes back.

Caroline hides the knife behind her and keeps her hand close to the stove. Overpowering hybrids with magic is harder than the regular vampire. They're stronger, and their werewolf makes them more resistant to the strokes she can inflict. So the element of surprise is important. If Tyler realizes she's about to attack, he'll strike first, and hybrids are too fast even for a witch, especially in such close proximity.

The somber expression on his face as their eyes meet gives her pause.

"It worked, didn't it?" she asks. "He's a hybrid."

Tyler is quiet for a moment, pensive. "If Klaus gets a hold of you, if he gets that kid, he wins."

"It's my kid too, Tyler."

"Haven't you understood yet? He's never gonna let you keep the baby, Care. It's his last chance."

"Then help me run. Let me go and I'll disappear." She doesn't really mean that last part, although... Well, the revelation about the baby changes everything, doesn't it? Caroline is terrified, but she doesn't know what to think. Tyler doesn't have to know that, though. All he has to do is believe her.

But maybe that's asking too much. He never used to believe her back when they were still together. Why would he start doing it now that he thinks she's joined forces with his nemesis?

"Klaus will find you. He always does."

"Katherine evaded him for 500 years."

"You're not Katherine, Caroline. She's a cockroach, you're... Not. You're soft. You won't have the guts to do half the things Katherine did to survive. So Klaus _will_ find you. This world is not big enough. He'll take your child away and he'll make more monster slaves who'll do anything he says."

Tyler takes a tentative step closer to her, clenching his hands into white-knuckled fists, a strange kind of reluctance in his eyes. He seems almost sad.

Caroline recoils, shaking her head in denial. "Tyler, whatever you're thinking, don't do it. Don't do something you're going to regret. You're not like this."

"You don't know what I'm like anymore. After everything I've been through? After what _he_ put me through?"

There's a heart stopping pause. His eyes flash yellow, dangerous, ready for the kill, and Caroline knows this is it. She needs to do something now.

In one fluid movement, Caroline puts both her hands forward and uses all her might to inflict pain. Tyler drops to his knees, face buried in his hands as he grunts loudly in pain. "What the fuck?!" he grumbles through clenched teeth, straining to look up at her.

"I don't want to hurt you, Tyler!" she says, almost begging him to stop fighting. If he stops resisting, he'll pass out or she can snap his neck. It'll be quick and painless. But Tyler is stubborn, refuses to let her overpower him, tries to stand up even with what Caroline knows is an impossibly painful headache.

She taps deeper into her magic, and it roars through her skin, giving her a kind of strength she never felt before. It's like there's no limit to what she can do; suddenly, she feels unstoppable. She can kill Tyler without touching a finger on him. It's a foreign sensation, yet completely familiar. Her magic, but different. Greater. It must be the baby, she realizes. Just as it's making her faster and stronger like a werewolf, healing her like a vampire, it must also be making her more powerful.

Still, she holds back. Caroline doesn't want to kill Tyler. And she doesn't think he really wants to kill her either. He's just... Totally unhinged. Consumed by grief and anger. She's learned from Stefan that vampires will sometimes obsess about certain things, choosing to focus all their emotion into one single feeling as to not spiral out of control or turn off their humanity, and she thinks this might be what happened to Tyler. He's channeled everything into his hatred for Klaus, and it's destroying him.

Not that Caroline thinks it gives him any right to attack her and threaten her baby. But she refuses to accept that the guy who she once thought to be the love of her life is the same one who would now murder a pregnant woman and her unborn child. Tyler had many flaws, but he was never cruel.

Just as she's about to increase the pain just a little bit more, hoping that he'll finally pass out, Dwayne comes back, distracting her. Tyler doesn't even hesitate, taking the moment of respite to charge. And then something even more unbelievable than her baby's blood siring hybrids happens.

Dwayne stops him.

"Get away from her," he says, snarling at Tyler and pulling him back.

"What do you care?" Tyler barks, trying to set himself free.

"I said get away!" Dwayne puts both his hands on Tyler's chest and pushes him away with all the newly acquired might of a hybrid.

Tyler's eyes flash, his fangs showing. "You got what you wanted, now get lost and stay out of my business!"

"Dwayne, he's going to kill me," Caroline says, taking a chance. If she understands this correctly, Dwayne is... protecting her? It was the baby's blood that sired him. So maybe that means he doesn't answer to Klaus after all.

He answers to her.

Dwayne bares his fangs out, snarling at Tyler, and then the next thing Caroline knows, they're both rolling around on the floor, throwing punches and bites.

This is all very insane, but she doesn't really have the time to stick around to find out more about the new hybrid. While the two men fight each other, she runs, escaping into the woods as fast as she can.

Even with all the power boost, though, she knows she won't be able to outrun Tyler. If she continues to run, she'll only make it easier for him to track her down. So Caroline stops, grabs a piece of wood, breaking the tip to use as a makeshift stake, and hides behind the largest tree she can find.

After a moment, she hears the crackling sound of steps over old leaves and branches, so she stills, holding her panting breath. She shuts her eyes, feeling as magic pools inside of her, a buzzing sensation beneath her skin. And then she attacks.

The person was much closer than she expected, and when she tries to aim the stake at him, he grabs her wrist and holds her in place. But it's not Tyler.

It's Elijah.

"Forgive me," he says. "I was under the impression that you were in danger. It appears I was mistaken," he says, a tiny smile dancing on the corner of her lips.

Caroline feels her entire body disarming, as though she were a bomb ready to explode and someone cut the wires at the last minute. She lets go of a breath that was trapped deep inside of her lungs, shedding her anger and fear, and wrapping her arms around Elijah in a tight embrace. She's never been happier to see him before.

"You will not believe the day I'm having," she breathes out, pulling away.

"Are you hurt?" he asks, giving her a cursory once over.

Caroline shakes her head. "Not from lack of trying, though. Tyler -"

"I know. We found his truck parked a few miles away."

"We? Klaus is here too?"

"Yes. He's searching for the Lockwood boy."

Caroline curses under her breath. All her fight not to hurt Tyler will be useless when Klaus gets his hands on him. "He's going to kill Tyler."

"For once, I see no fault in my brother's logic."

Caroline pauses, biting on her lower lip, regarding Elijah. "There's something you need to know about the baby."

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"Come out, Care! You know you can't hide from me forever. Give up now and I promise I'll end it quick."

Klaus' eyes narrow to slits as he watches the boy he thought he'd never see again call out to Caroline in the woods. He knows she's not here, caught her scent not long ago going in the opposite direction — where, Klaus imagines, Elijah is. For now, he's not too bothered. He and Tyler Lockwood have some reckoning to do and he'd rather Caroline is not around to beg for his sodden life again.

Tyler will find he picked a very bad time to stop by for a visit. Klaus is not feeling very charitable at the moment.

It's sad, really. Tyler was his first. Klaus had big plans for him, was willing to groom Tyler into greatness. Make him an apprentice, teach him everything he knows. Klaus was even pleasantly surprised when he managed to break the sire bond. It was not ideal, but it showed great character, which was something he could appreciate, even if it turned out to be a terrible inconvenience. Alas, he was mistaken about Tyler's dispositions; he turned out to be no more than a petty child with no vision. Such a disappointment.

Klaus would let him live, if anything than for sentimental reasons. He has no way of siring new hybrids, so Tyler would remain the last living proof of what should've been the beginning of a dynasty. But the boy is too stupid to even appreciate how lucky he is. If he'd been as smart as Klaus once thought he was, he'd never cross his path again, would make sure to always run in the opposite direction. But revenge eats at him, poor lad.

Well, no matter. Klaus will grant him his death wish.

"Quite an offer," he finally says, revealing himself. "Though not one I'll be extending to you."

Tyler bristles, taking a few careful steps back like the coward that he is. Klaus can actually hear his heartbeat picking up.

"What's the matter, Tyler? You look scared. What happened to ending it _quick_? Do you only talk like that to women?" Klaus advances and Tyler immediately moves out of his way, his eyes never leaving Klaus. “Threatening a pregnant girl in order to exact revenge against me. I never expected you to sink so low."

"I used to hang out with you. I guess something must've rubbed off," Tyler snarls.

Klaus chuckles, shaking his head. "And I thought your love for Caroline was the one redeeming quality about you."

"My love for her died the second she betrayed me."

Klaus frowns. "Betrayed you? Just because she could finally see who was the best man among us? That seems rather unfair. You were long gone by the time we got together. And I have to tell you." Klaus offers him a Cheshire grin, pure malice. "It was worth every second of the long wait."

Tyler grinds his teeth, a muscle on his jaw twitching.

"You made me leave so you could have her. You did it on purpose and _still_ she fell for your tricks."

"Quite the opposite, mate. I never wanted you to leave. What I wanted was to rip your heart out of your chest while you begged me for your life. But you were too much of a coward to face the consequences of your own actions. I could've gone after you, of course. Wouldn't have taken too long. The only reason I allowed you to live, even when you boldly returned to Mystic Falls for your prom night, was because of her. All the mercy I've granted your pathetic little life was on behalf of Caroline and this is how you repay her? I always knew she cared about you a lot more than you ever deserved."

"She's a backstabbing bitch and you two deserve each other."

Klaus laughs. He would gladly agree with the last part, even though he knows it's not true. He worked hard to win her affections, and he's been trying — and failing — to retain it ever since. But he does not deserve her. If anything, Klaus is afraid to ruin her. She's an all-around better person than he's ever been, or wants to be, truth be told. But the viciousness with which the ungrateful little wanker refers to her... It makes Klaus see red.

In a blink, he's on Tyler, his fist connecting straight with his jaw. Klaus hears a _crack_ as the other man is sent flying in the air, hitting a tree and dropping to the ground like a dead weight.

"Come on, mate!" he presses. "Give it a bit more effort! I want to enjoy myself."

Before Klaus can charge a second time, Tyler scurries to his feet and, just as he's done every other time, he runs.

Good thing Klaus is in just the right mood for a hunt.

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"I don't believe this. I can't."

Elijah shakes his head vehemently. There has to be an explanation for the story Caroline has just shared with him.

"I don't want to believe it either," she says. "But you have to admit that it makes sense. We need to consider the possibility."

"He would've said something. I would've known."

"Come on, Elijah. He's not stupid." Caroline sounds exasperated. Elijah can see it in her eyes that she's on the verge of panic. Tyler Lockwood's discovery that her child's blood can be used to sire new hybrids has deeply unsettled her. If what Tyler claims is true — that Niklaus knows about it, that that is the reason why he's decided to stay in New Orleans, why he had such a sudden change of heart about keeping the baby — then it changes everything.

"He knew I'd run away the first chance I got if I knew about this," she continues, pacing as she lists the reasons why Tyler's claim should be taken seriously. "He knew _you_ wouldn't approve of it, obviously. And the witches would've probably tried to kill me and the baby as soon as I got here. You weren't there to see what he was like after he broke his curse. Making more hybrids was his sole obsession. He made everyone's lives hell because of that. This is the second chance he never thought he'd get. That must be what the witches' premonitions have been about. Although..." she stops, eyes going distant for a second. "The way Dwayne was acting... It was more like he was sired to me. Or... to the baby. I don't think the hybrids would answer to Klaus."

Caroline is not wrong. It's too perfect a coincidence for them to dismiss it. But merely entertaining the idea makes him terribly uneasy. Elijah is not naive to think that Niklaus developed some deep sense of fatherhood and unconditional love for the child overnight. His brother's mind may be a mystery, but he knows Klaus well enough to understand this would be no simple process. They've all suffered at the hands of Mikael, but none more so than Niklaus. The scars from their childhood and human years are seared onto his soul. It would never be easy to make him warm up to the idea of having a family of his own, of believing that he could be a better father to his child than Mikael ever was to him. And the process started with Caroline, not with the baby. For all his faults and errors, Elijah sincerely believed Klaus was at least fond enough of the girl that he wouldn't want any harm to come her way.

Is it possible that he has misread the situation so drastically? Has his desperate quest for the salvation of his brother once again led him to underestimate the corruption in Niklaus' soul?

He realizes he's been quiet for too long, and Caroline is watching him expectantly. Elijah hesitates. He wishes he could offer her some kind of comfort, tell her that Tyler Lockwood is wrong, that Niklaus would never dare to hurt his own child, but... He's not certain of that himself, and it brings a sour taste to his mouth.

What he is certain of, however, is that his promise still stands.

"Regardless of my brother's intentions, mine remains the same," he says. "I said that I would protect you, even, if need be, from Niklaus himself."

Caroline huffs out, something about her stance changing. "I'm not talking about that, Elijah. I don't need you to protect me. Your family's _protection_ is what has been putting me in danger all this time. What I need is for you to stop acting like I'm some poor girl who doesn't know any better and start _listening_. I'm telling you your brother may have known that his baby would give him the power to sire an entire new hybrid army. What I need is not protection. It's the truth."

 

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"Is this your idea of revenge, Tyler? A grueling game of hide-and-seek."

Tyler has been running from him for almost an hour now, avoiding confrontation like the plague. Like that will save him.

As much as Klaus enjoys the hunt, he's starting to get bored. Every time he comes close, Tyler dashes off in the opposite direction, hiding in the middle of what he assumes is the werewolf settlement Sabine mentioned.

"This is starting to get embarrassing, Tyler! How long are you planning on hiding like a scared puppy? I regret ever thinking you were worthy of being a superior creature. You are weak!"

There's a noise, and when Klaus turns, Tyler's already flying towards him, stake in hand. He's aiming for the heart, but Klaus manages to dodge just enough for him to miss, stabbing him in the stomach instead.

Klaus screams out in pain, but his moan turns into a manic laugh as he pulls the stake out. "Finally!" he snarls, gritting his teeth against the pain. "I thought you'd never show."

Tyler charges towards him again, golden eyes and fangs out as they are both sent to the ground, fighting. Tyler has grown stronger than he remembers, but he's still too slow. Klaus has no trouble deflecting his punches, trying to gain momentum to strike back.

He didn't see the second stake, though, until it was firmly driven into his side.

He growls, tasting his own blood in his mouth. "You've gone bloodthirsty," he spits out. "Perhaps it's best your mother didn't live to see you like this."

Something dark crosses Tyler's face, a brand new kind of rage rising inside of him as he starts throwing punches again. Klaus feels his nose shattering, grunting loudly in annoyance.

He's had enough of this kid's play.

He grabs hold of Tyler's arm and twists it, breaking his wrist and pushing him off. He then pulls the stake out of his side and drives it straight into the boy's chest.

Tyler gasps, a low whimper escaping his lips. Klaus stands to his feet and spits out blood as he watches the other man writhing on the ground. He just barely missed his heart.

"It's sad really," he says. "I thought I made you better. No wonder Caroline chose me."

Tyler scrunches his eyes shut and, with what appears to be a monumental effort, removes the stake from his chest. He's resilient at least, Klaus will give him that.

"I guess I'm just another one of your... failures," he pants as he pushes back up, nearly tumbling down again. "Like how you failed at making hybrids. How you failed your family. Now it looks like you're about to fail Caroline as well. And your own kid."

Klaus grabs him by the throat, smashing his skull against a tree and sticking his hand inside his chest, his fingers closing around Tyler's beating heart. The boy lets out a breathless groan, eyes wide in pain.

"And thus ends your tedious, little life."

"Do it," Tyler replies, looking him straight in the eye. Blood starts running down the side of his lips. "You're never gonna break me. The only thing you can do is kill me. So go on. _Go on!_ Get it over with."

Klaus squints his eyes at him, their faces so close now he can sense Tyler's ragged breath on his own skin. He realizes now there's been something missing about him all this time. Something Klaus should be sensing right now, exhaling from every pore on Tyler's body.

The stench of fear.

"You want me to put you out of your miserable life, don't you? That's what you've been doing here all along. I did break you, Tyler. I took _everything_ from you, and now you're begging me to sweep away the shards of your shattered life." His lips curl into a cruel smile. "Death offers more peace than you deserve for daring to threaten Caroline's life. It's better to let you live, and each morning you will wake knowing that your wretched existence continues only by my will." Klaus pulls his hand from his chest, grabbing Tyler's chin with his bloodied fingers and forcing him to look into his eyes. "Now go and live the rest of your days knowing you are nothing to me."

He leaves Tyler clutching the hole in his chest, breathing painfully hard while he waits for the wound to close, the effects of the compulsion slowly taking root. With any luck, this will be enough to keep him away from New Orleans and from Caroline forever. He deserves a fate much worse, but Klaus is in a hurry.

Now that the Tyler problem is done and dusted, it's time to find Caroline.

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Elijah wants to go back to the car and get the hell out of there, but Caroline wants to find Dwayne. The idea of a hybrid sired to her baby out there doesn't sit well with her. It's precisely the kind of thing that might come back to bite her in the ass if she doesn't deal with it now. Besides, he kind of helped her escape, even if it wasn't entirely deliberate on his part.

When they finally make it back to the cabin, Klaus is already there.

And so is Dwayne. Dead.

"There you are!" Klaus greets them with mock enthusiasm. "I see you've rescued the princess after all."

"The princess rescued herself," Caroline bites, stepping forward. "What happened to Tyler?"

"Really now, love? After everything he's done to you, you're concerned for that tosser?" Klaus snorts derisively. "He's fine. Still in one piece and breathing, anyway. His ego might be a bit wounded, I'm afraid. Poor lad. I don't know if he'll ever recover." He smirks, visibly proud of himself. Caroline notices his clothes look dirty, a dark stain on his shirt and jacket. There was fighting. How Tyler managed to make out of that alive, she can't imagine. Klaus wouldn't let that happen — _again_ — unless he could think of worse ways to punish him. Caroline is afraid to ask. "You have arrived in good time," he continues, kicking Dwayne's body from the porch.

Caroline sighs when she sees the hole in the man's chest. "Did you kill him?"

"Not at all, and I'm extremely confused about what happened. Perhaps you could shed some light on the situation. This would appear to be the body of a hybrid."

"His name was Dwayne."

"Whoever he was, I didn't sire him. Any idea how that's possible?"

Caroline feels a pulse of low, banked anger. "You're gonna tell me that you don't know?"

"Caroline," Elijah admonishes, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder and stepping closer.

Something flashes hot through Klaus' eyes, and Caroline realizes there's something off about him. He's in a mood, obviously, but that was to be expected, considering Tyler's ill-timed visit. But that's not all. Something else is bothering him.

"Ah. Look at that," Klaus says. "Aren't you two fast friends? Go on, then. What horrible accusation will you levy against me now?"

"Tyler Lockwood brought Caroline here to test a theory," Elijah says. "That the blood of her child could be used to sire hybrids. And he claims you knew that. Furthermore, that you intended to use this knowledge to build an army."

Klaus' eyes widen in surprise, and Caroline's almost certain she sees a flicker of hurt when he fixes his gaze on her, but then something slides down and whatever she thought she saw is gone.

"And of course you assume it's true. I mean, why else would I show any interest in my own flesh and blood?"

"So you're saying you didn't know?" Caroline presses, part of her desperate to believe him without a shadow of a doubt. "You had absolutely no idea this kid could sire hybrids? Not even the slightest bit of suspicion?"

"A heartbroken little cry baby points his finger at me and you fall in line, eager to believe it. And my own brother," he turns to Elijah then. "How quickly you assume the worst. But I suppose it suits you, doesn't it?"

Caroline frowns, looking from Klaus to Elijah and back. Something happened _between_ them.

"Oh, spare me your indignation, Niklaus. When have you ever demonstrated any kind of concern towards Caroline or her child beyond your own selfish pursuits? What was it that you once said to me? _Every king needs an heir_."

"What?" Caroline asks. Klaus' face twists in rage, but he avoids her gaze.

"My big brother," he says, the words coming out of his lips as though drenched in something vile. "Doubting my intentions. Well, I can't say I'm surprised. I've seen the way you two scurry around the house together, like you're joined at the hips. Caroline goes nowhere without your diligent eyes on her."

Caroline shakes her head, suddenly very confused about the real reason behind this argument. They're not talking about the hybrid or Tyler anymore, are they? "Klaus, what—"

"Standing beside the noble Elijah, how can I be anything but the lesser brother? A liar, a manipulator... A bastard. That's all I am to you, isn't it?" he asks Elijah. "And to Rebekah. And judging by the way Caroline hangs on your every word, it's clear she feels the same way. No doubt my child will as well."

"All right, stop right there," she says, stepping forward. "First of all, _Caroline_ is standing right here, so if you have anything to say, you can talk directly _to me_. And second — what the hell are you on about?"

"Don't pretend that's not what you two want."

"Brother, if we have -"

"I've said all that needs to be said," he cuts Elijah off. "I've come to expect betrayal from absolutely everyone, but not from you, Elijah."

Klaus stops, staring his brother down. His gaze narrows then, a vein bulges against his throat, and Caroline realizes a second too late what he's about to do.

It's like watching an explosion in slow motion. Klaus' eyes turn golden as the darkest part of his anger breaks free. He charges at Elijah like a lightning bolt, sinking his teeth into his brother's neck.

Caroline's eyes bulge in horror, too shocked to even scream.

Klaus pushes Elijah to the ground, stepping away, his lips twisting up into an ugly smirk, his lips tinged with the deep red of Elijah's blood.

"Consider that bite my parting gift," he says. "Enjoy the hallucinations and dementia, Elijah."

Caroline merely watches as he walks by and disappears from sight, unable to offer any reactions. She looks back to Elijah, still kneeling down, a hand on his neck, where the punctures of Klaus' teeth aren't healing.

"Are you... Is his bite...?"

"I'll live," he says, an edge of deep disappointment in his voice.

What the hell just happened?

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His neck is _burning_.

It's like his skin is on fire. The place where Niklaus bit him throbs and itches and it makes Elijah want to claw his own flesh out. And he knows this is just the beginning. He's been bitten by werewolves before — it's unpleasant, but not deadly. This, however, is the first time he's been bitten by a hybrid. Something tells him Niklaus' venom is much more vicious than that of an ordinary wolf.

It's going to get much worse before it starts to get better. It'll probably take the better part of a day for the venom to run its course. And while that happens, he's a liability. Too dangerous to go back to the city or the house. It's best that he waits it out here in the Bayou, where damage control will be easier.

There's no sign of werewolves anywhere, but the encampment looks inhabited. Tents, small constructions, fires that seem to have been put out less than a day ago. Now where exactly have the wolves gone, he has no idea. As he makes way through camp, searching for clues, he often gets a feeling of being watched, but it's hard to tell if it's real or a figment of his poisoned imagination.

Caroline stayed back at the cabin, said she wanted to look through the place, see if she could find anything about the wolves that live there. Tyler said something about a curse Marcel placed upon the pack, dooming them to remain in wolf form and only return to their original human nature on the full moons, which explains the wolf that saved her from the witches.

Elijah knows she's had that on her mind since the occurrence; she's determined to find out who that wolf was. But it's not why she stayed. Caroline is using the opportunity to search through the encampment as an excuse not to go home, where she'll likely have to face Niklaus.

As appalled as he was by Klaus' attack, none were more unsettled than Caroline. She was horrified. Elijah had always wondered how long it would take until his brother turned on him or Rebekah with his poisonous teeth, so it wasn't entirely a surprise when jealousy tipped him off the edge at last. Caroline, on the other hand, did not see it coming at all. And it left her cold.

Elijah has... very conflicting feelings.

He is angry and disappointed at yet another thoughtless, violent reaction from his brother. A thousand years and Niklaus never seems to learn, always allowing his temper to get the best of him. They came to the Bayou to rescue the mother of his child and Caroline is now possibly more disgusted by him than she was by Tyler Lockwood.

On the other hand, however... Elijah can't help the awful twinge of guilt. Niklaus wasn't entirely wrong, even if his response was blown way out of proportion. They shouldn't have assumed Tyler was right just because it seemed plausible. Elijah now believes Niklaus had no idea that the baby's blood could be used to sire more hybrids. The shock that registered on his face was sincere. And the fact his own family chose to believe the worst about him has wounded him.

And then there's the matter of Caroline. Elijah could have denied so many things — that he finds Caroline's mind fascinating; that her smile lights up a flame deep in his chest; that he's never seen anything more beautiful than the way her hair catches the sun. All that he could've easily denied. And believed his denials too. But deep down he knows there's truth in Niklaus' accusations, however misguided they might be. Even though he longs to bask in the warmth of her light, even though he is obviously drawn to her, Elijah would never act upon his complicated feelings. He would never even try to understand it. But that matters little to Niklaus. That the feelings exist at all is enough to make him vexed.

On Elijah's part, what makes him feel guilty is not what could come to pass in the future, because he knows there is none. It's what happened in the past.

First, it was Tatia. Elijah never meant to fall in love with her, but it had been inevitable. He knew he was robbing his brother of his happiness when it turned out that Tatia reciprocated his feelings, and Elijah felt awful, but not so awful that he was willing to give up on her. She would've been the woman of his life, if their mother hadn't ended their dispute by murdering the girl.

The second time was the one that really crushed Niklaus' soul. Aurora. They were young vampires then, the first of their kind, still learning the full extent of their powers. It was by accident that Elijah compelled her to believe his brother was a hideous monster, unworthy of love. She repeated Elijah's exact words back to Niklaus, shattering his heart into a thousand pieces. Accidentally or not, Elijah had wanted her to leave them alone, and he never tried to undo his mistake, which is why he never told Niklaus the truth.

For the longest time, Elijah thought the part of Niklaus' heart that was capable of love had withered and died because of Aurora. Every year, his brother seemed to lose a little bit more of his soul. Every time he said _Love makes us weak_ , Elijah felt a twinge in his heart, knowing he was the one who'd caused that disillusion. He didn't think his brother would ever care for another the way he'd cared for Aurora.

Until Caroline.

It's hard to draw comparisons because Niklaus is not the same person he was back when he met Aurora. Falling in love was never so impossible before. The person his brother is now — cold, detached, selfish, harsh, cruel — doesn't believe in love anymore. For centuries, all Elijah's heard from him on the matter is that he was disgusted by the idea of succumbing to another person, becoming attached to the point he would do anything, even against his own personal interests, just to see that person happy or safe; to Niklaus, _love_ is no more than a character flaw. He spent so much of his life living up to Aurora's accusations, so firmly believing himself to be the unworthy monster she couldn't love, that it has left him crippled. But Caroline Forbes has somehow breached his walls. Elijah is certain he never meant to, but Klaus _feels_ for her like he hasn't felt for anyone in centuries. And he simply doesn't know how to handle himself.

Now, loving Niklaus is not easy, as Elijah very well knows. He makes it an Olympics level challenge. It takes someone very brave to be willing to weather the stormy seas of Niklaus' affections. Caroline has that kind of rare courage. Elijah can see it in her eyes that she cares about him, and each time he lashes out as he's done today, it hurts her, deeply.

All Elijah's ever wanted was for Klaus to find happiness. Something that could bring some peace to his restless soul, soften the razor-sharp edges of his personality. Elijah believes that Caroline and the baby offer a new chance for him to rescue his little brother from the depths of despair where he's been buried for the past hundreds of years. Maybe the last chance.

Elijah's learned from his past mistakes and he will do anything in his power to make it right this time. He'll step back and go against his own self-interests, will curb his every instinct for Caroline, if that means Klaus will finally, _finally_ , be happy again. But he will not, under any circumstances, allow his brother to hurt her. Not when her only crime was to have feelings for an idiot who can't tell right from wrong. His manic behavior only pushes her away, and if he keeps this up, she _will_ leave them, taking her child far away from their family.

Elijah will fight for his brother's right to a shot at happiness, but he will also fight his brother if that means protecting Caroline. Klaus better make up his mind if he knows what's good for him.

When the throbbing pain in his neck becomes so intense that he cannot focus on anything anymore, Elijah returns to the cabin. He finds Caroline sitting by a desk, a book open in front of her. But her eyes are far away, lost in some distant thought.

"Found anything?" he asks, pulling her out of her reverie.

She blinks, looking down at the book as though she'd completely forgotten it was there. "No. Not really. Just a book with birth dates, I guess. But it only dates about a hundred years back. I don't know who any of these people are, so... Not very helpful. Most of the family names listed here are Labonair and Kenner. Does that mean anything you?"

“No. Sorry.”

Caroline nods, closing the book. “Didn’t think it would.” She turns back to him, her eyes setting on the wound on his neck. By the way she scrunches up her nose in a grimace, he imagines it's looking bad. "How's that?"

"Like Niklaus himself, it's more a nuisance than anything else."

She sighs, shaking her head. "The things Klaus does sometimes... He makes it really hard to defend him."

"He's jealous."

Caroline snorts. "You don't say. He's not exactly subtle."

"Perhaps I was too quick to condemn him. In the 1000 years that we have been together, my brother has committed numerous unspeakable acts, but then again so has Rebekah. So have I. And I wouldn't doubt her the way I doubted him."

"We have all done bad things, Elijah. I'll die before my list gets embarrassing, but so have I. That's not the point. The problem is, he doesn't care. He doesn't _listen_. It's his way or the highway, always."

Elijah's gaze flickers away from her. He doesn't know how to explain the shame he feels.

Caroline stands up, stopping in front of him until it becomes impossible not to face her. "Are you serious? He _bit_ you, Elijah, and you're still feeling guilty, making excuses for him?"

"It's not an excuse. I may not know what's on my brother's mind, but I know how it works. Niklaus acts like nothing ever gets to him, but that's not true. Whenever he feels cornered, unfairly judged or victimized, especially by someone he cares about... It hurts him. And like a wild beast, he's always most dangerous when he's hurt."

"So? That gives him the right to lash out the way he did? Attack you and accuse us of conspiring behind his back? Our suspicion was fair and honest. History speaks against him and if he wants to go all psychopath, endangering an entire city and killing dozens of people just because he wants to build himself an army of brainless minions, then he cannot complain when he gets judged by it in the future. If he felt wronged, he should've just said it's not true. Convinced us he had no idea. Not act like _we_ are the bad guys with ulterior motives." Caroline stops herself as her voice was beginning to escalate. She's finally moved past the shock and is now just plain angry. "Have you considered that maybe the fact you're always willing to give him a pass and forgive his wrongdoings is exactly why he keeps doing the same thing over and over?" she asks, folding her arms in front of her chest. "He knows that no matter what he does, you'll always come around."

"You're right," he concedes. "I am perfectly aware that I am an enabler of my brother's bad behavior. But it's either that or losing him. If I'm with him, I at least have a chance of pulling him back every time he flirts with the abyss. Not that it always works; Niklaus' tendency towards self-destruction is.... Uncanny. However... I don't think that is what this has been all about. For once, the point here is not me. It's you, Caroline."

She gapes. "Excuse me? You're saying it's _my_ fault?"

"No. I'm saying — he's lashing out because he's afraid of losing you," he says, and then after a pause, he adds, "To me."

Caroline lets out a mirthless laugh, a stiffening across her face. "I'm pregnant. Hormonal. In a city I don't know, locked up in a mansion most of the time. I've been threatened, attacked and kidnapped, and I can barely use my powers to defend myself because that means putting yet another target on my back. I have a whole lot of problems of my own to deal with. I can't be responsible for Klaus' emotional meltdowns. He's not a child."

"You're right, of course. It's not your responsibility. All I'm saying is, if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say his recent hostility stems from the fact that he thought that by staying in New Orleans, with you and the child, he'd be starting a family of his own. And then when things proved harder... He did what he always does. Started searching for culprits."

"You know what?" Caroline says, the thrum of the beginnings of real heat on her voice now. "I've had it with that bullshit. All I've heard today was men blaming me for betraying their trust based on who they think I want to sleep with. Tyler blames me because he thinks I should've stayed loyal to him even after he left me for someone else. I'm a slut because I slept with his nemesis when, in fact, the truth is he had every chance in the world to leave Klaus behind, _with me_ , but he _chose_ to start a war he couldn't win and now somehow everything that's happened to him is my fault. Now Klaus blames me because he thinks I'm a slut who wants to sleep with his brother when all he does is act like a maniac and treat me like I'm a curveball that has thumped him on the head. And you — I don't even know what you think."

"Caroline —"

"No," she says, cutting him off by raising her palm in the air, anger flaring hot behind her blue eyes. "You say Klaus treats me like I'm a human incubator, but you do that, too, Elijah. All you two see me as is an ornamental thing for you to stare at and care for like I'm some freaking Virgin Mary, or a science project, not a person with feelings and needs and desires of my own. No one ever asks me what I want, what I think. Has your brother ever bothered _talking_ to me about anything that isn't some half-assed apology for something stupid he's said or done? He was talking _about me_ outside _to you_ while I was standing _right there_ and he wouldn't even look at me. I'm not a property for you to be fighting over like some war spoil. And I'm not just a mother either. I exist beyond what's inside my womb. So maybe next time you decide to have a quarrel, before you start barking at each other, just ask me what I freaking want!"

Several responses that don't feel remotely up to standard rise to Elijah's lips, only to fall right away. It's not every day Elijah Mikaelson finds himself speechless. He had no idea Caroline felt that way, and now that she's mentioned it, he can't imagine why it hadn't occurred to him. They've been suffocating her since day one. Niklaus may be the one with the difficult temper, but Elijah is just as guilty.

The truth is no ordinary situation for any of them. In a thousand years, nothing even close to this ever came to pass. Not even when Niklaus took Marcel under his wing. They grew close and the love Niklaus came to have for the boy was very true, but it was different. Caroline's child is... Miraculous. Divine provision, Elijah would say — if he believed in God, that is. None of them know how to navigate these unusual circumstances, and the fact that the whole city of New Orleans seems to be out to get Caroline doesn't help. In many ways, it's made him as paranoid as Niklaus. If he can't keep his mind sound enough to offer a balance to his brother's volatile behavior, then they are sure to have problems. And Caroline's the one suffering the consequences.

While they battle the vampires, the witches and Niklaus' former protégés, not to mention each other, Caroline is caught in the crossfire.

"Forgive me," Elijah says. "I suppose it's difficult for us to see things from your perspective. When you're as old as we are — it's hard to accept that we don't always know better. We just assume that we do. It's a habit, more than anything."

"It's condescending and arrogant, is what it is."

He nods once, a wan smile on his lips. "That too. I am sorry."

"Damn right you are."

"What do you want, Caroline?"

"What I want is for this day to be over. I want to sleep for an entire week without being dragged to the middle of freaking nowhere!"

As she starts to gesticulate, they're swept by a violent wind that sends doors and windows slamming open. For just a brief second Elijah thought he saw her eyes flashing yellow, like those of a werewolf. But then he blinked and it was gone. The magic, however, he's pretty sure came from her.

"Damn it," she mutters angrily. "Now I can't even control myself."

Caroline starts for the door, and Elijah makes to follow, but she stops, turns around and points a finger at him. "Do not follow me."

"Where are you going?"

"To get some air."

"But it's not safe. You just used magic, and Tyler Lockwood -"

"Is going to get his ass served to him for the second time today if he dares to come at me in the mood I'm in. I don't need your brother or you or anyone else to kick some goddamn hybrid ass and if Marcel sends his vampires after me, he'll be very sorry."

She slams the door behind her as she walks out.

Elijah is torn between being worried for her out there on her own and wanting to give her space. Telling her she can't take care of herself is the kind of condescending thing she just mentioned. Besides... The bite on his neck hurts like hell.

It may be better for her to stay away while he sweats out the fever. Soon enough he'll be hallucinating, and he's not entirely sure he wants Caroline to be around to witness that.

His night promises to be an excruciatingly long one.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus' heart sinks a bit deeper when he hears the sound of heels clicking.

It's Rebekah.

When he heard the car parking outside, part of him hoped it would be Caroline. But she wouldn't return home so fast after what he did to Elijah. He saw the horror in her eyes when he sank his teeth into his brother's neck. He'll be lucky if she comes home at all.

It wasn't one of his proudest moments, he'll admit it. He snapped, allowed the rage to consume him, and his temper took over. But now, a few glasses of bourbon and some hours later, Klaus finds that he's not nearly as remorseful as he probably should be. If anything, he regrets having wanted his brother to come home. Their relationship has always been one of ups and downs. Elijah is too moral, too level-headed for Klaus' derangement. Even Rebekah is closer to him in temperament than Elijah.

They quarrel, they make up, they start over. That's how it's always been. Except this time is not like any other time before, is it? There's never been a child between them. And there hasn't been a woman since before they were turned, too long ago for it to even count. Klaus can't even remember what it felt like to be in love with Tatia. He knows he'd cared for her, that he'd wanted to marry her, that he'd been awfully disappointed when he found out she had her eyes set on a different Mikaelson, heartbroken when their mother murdered her. But it's all cold fact in his head, devoid of any warmth, any feeling. Such a distant memory that Katerina or Elena don't even provoke the slightest bit of reaction in him. It's just a familiar face that means little, like so many others. And so very different from Caroline.

Caroline... Klaus feels something hit his stomach like an anchor at the thought of her.

Elijah's betrayal hurt, but he could handle it. It's nothing new. It was Caroline what tipped him over the edge, what made all manner of awfulness come spilling out. The way she'd looked at him, her blue eyes ablaze with accusations and suspicion, so inclined to believe Tyler Lockwood's fallacy. Maybe already believing it in her heart. She didn't even give him a chance. That pathetic boyfriend of hers comes back from the hole he'd crawled into like the coward that he is and she listens to his revenge-ridden rubbish over the father of her child.

Have none of his efforts meant anything to her? Can't she realize that he's trying?

She never seems to grant Klaus the same leeway she offered Tyler time and time again. Even after he broke her heart and mated with that werewolf girl. Caroline was always willing to forgive him. He wonders what she would've done had Tyler showed up with nobler intentions this time. If he'd apologized and confessed his undying love. Would she have taken him back? Does she still have feelings for him? Klaus didn't think that was the case anymore. Not after the time they spent together. That hadn't felt like a rebound, as though she were only after some kind of comfort, lonely and abandoned after her boyfriend's departure. It felt like she was ready for him. Like she was finally ready to admit that she wanted him as much as he'd wanted her for eons. Nothing about that night had been about Tyler Lockwood, or anyone else for that matter. He wasn't naive enough to think she'd fallen in love with him, but... Perhaps, with a bit more time, she could.

Had he been mistaken then? He never pegged Caroline as a great actress. Her random bouts of congeniality never fooled him. He always knew exactly what she was up to, even when she pretended to be in a feud with Tyler and Hayley shortly after their return from the mountains, back when she still believed that there was nothing between the two of them. It made him all the more vexed that he knew Tyler was lying to her. He caught the two weasels in the act. And oh, how joyful he'd been. But it lasted for a moment before he realized how heartbroken Caroline would be. He hadn't vowed to keep his distance and allowed her freedom to be in a relationship with whomever she wanted to — even if it was with one of his hybrids — for her to be betrayed like that. She deserved more. Klaus wanted to tell her, to open her eyes, but he knew she wouldn't believe him. He did, after all, make no mystery of his personal investment in the downfall of her relationship.

So he made Tyler come clean. It was his condition to allow him to walk out of Mystic Falls with his head still attached to his body after he defied Klaus' ban and showed up for prom night. All dapper in his tuxedo, carrying a bouquet of flowers that didn't do justice to how exquisite Caroline looked on that evening — wearing the dress _he_ gave her, nonetheless. He had to admit Tyler did pick up a few things from him, like how cynical he became. Klaus could even appreciate it, take pride in the fact he'd taught a small town nobody how to be a master manipulator like that. If only the one he'd been trying to manipulate wasn’t Caroline.

Klaus wasn't going to let him weasel his way back to her oblivious heart so easily. After Hayley left him for dead, he suddenly wanted Caroline back - and to pin the blame for their failed romance on Klaus. Pitiful. If she were to forgive him, she would do it in light of the full story. He found her hours later, crying her eyes out with a bottle of tequila at the old Lockwood mausoleum. He almost regretted forcing Tyler's confession. He and Hayley were planning on leaving once they'd found a way to get rid of him. _"But I was wrong, Caroline. She bewitched me with tales of being part of a pack and becoming an alpha. She made me feel like I was part of something, like I was important. But it was a mistake! I never should've listened to her. It was you I wanted to be with. I love you."_ Tyler didn't even blink as he uttered these words, Caroline said. Even Klaus would qualify that as cold.

_"He said you were trying to break us apart, that you forced him to tell me the truth.”_

_“Yes, I did.”_

_"Why?"_

_“Because you deserve better than a lie.”_

It would've been so easy to take her right there... She was pliant, vulnerable, desperate for solace. If he'd kissed her, she wouldn't have stopped him. She might've even wanted him to. But Klaus didn't. That's not how he wanted to be with her. Drunk. Broken. Thinking of someone else.

He helped her get home, even unzipped the dress for her. But before she could step out of it and he could no longer moderate his behavior, he flashed away.

She sent him a text that said simply _Thank you_ the morning after and avoided him for days. When she showed up again, it was with the excuse of returning a dress he'd made very clear was a gift. _"You can't just give that to me, Klaus, it's probably worth a fortune."_ When has he ever cared about the financial value of anything? His most prized treasures are probably worth nothing to the common people. Money means nothing. But it would mean something if she'd kept the dress.

But she didn't want to, and he understood it was because of Tyler. He'd ruined what was supposed to be a perfect night. Klaus felt slightly guilty; he did, after all, play a part in that. But she didn't blame him, she said.

_"You actually did something very nice. He should've been able to tell me the truth on his own, the fact it took you threatening it out of him says a lot. I can't believe I was that dumb. Every time I think about it... How could I not see it? It was so obvious they were together."_

_“You didn't see it because you didn't want to see it,”_ he told her. _“You knew, but your heart desired for something else, and so you held on to it.”_

_"Yeah. Dumb, like I said."_

_“Not dumb, Caroline. Human. Faith is your kind's greatest weakness. You can never resist it.”_

She'd looked at him then in a way she never had before. As though seeing him for the first time. It was scorching, searching, almost freeing - for her, more than for him. And then she'd smiled. _"You should buy me a drink one of these days."_

He did. The very next day, in fact. The following morning, he woke up with her in his bed. It had felt like the beginning of something then.

Now he thinks it might've been the grand finale.

Klaus wonders what it would take for him to be worthy of the kind of trust Caroline bestowed upon Tyler. The kind of faith she seems to have in Elijah.

A tiny voice in the back of his head says that he should probably start by not exploding in rage out of jealousy and poisoning his own brother with werewolf venom right in front of her. But it's a tiny voice, and Klaus has never been known to be sensible.

The two of them together, side by side, demanding explanations about things he had no idea of. Klaus saw nothing but red in that moment.

He wanted to punish Caroline for not believing in him and he wanted to punish Elijah for taking advantage of that to gain her trust. So he did the only thing he could think of.

Elijah will be fine. He could use a few hours of pain and hallucinations to think of what he did. It'll teach him to never believe crybabies before his own brother. And it'll teach Caroline... To be afraid of him? Is that really what he wanted her to think? That he's deranged and dangerous and therefore she should always do as he says?

"I thought you were leaving us," he says when he senses Rebekah's presence behind him.

"We both know this family can barely function without me," his sister says. "Where are Elijah and Caroline?"

Klaus' jaw sets, he looks down at the glass of bourbon in his hands. "I left them in the Bayou."

"Why?"

"Elijah and I had a bit of a row."

"And Caroline?"

He shrugs, pursing his lips. "She's probably with him, I imagine. Holding his hand while he burns up in fever and dementia."

"What?"

Klaus chuckles. "You know our brother was never one to resist a pretty face. So one thing led to another and I bit him. Left them both stranded in the swamp."

Rebekah's face twists into a disgusted grimace. "Daggering. Biting. Deserting. Does your wickedness never end?"

"My wickedness is self-preservation," he counters, pointing a finger at her. "And I would never have to go to such lengths if I were not set on all sides by incompetence and treachery." He stops, sipping from his drink. "Now that Elijah has abandoned me, I'll be needing you for my plot against Marcel. Don't expect to be leaving town any time soon."

"Why should I help you after what you did to Elijah?"

"You're my family," he says, simply. Rebekah eyes him like he's completely insane. "Besides, who better to spy on Marcel than the girl he so clearly loves?" He takes a seat on the coffee table, staring right into his sister's cloudy eyes. Rebekah was never one to hide her feelings well, always wearing them on her sleeve. She's _fuming_. But she'll get over it. She has before. "You can tell me all his secrets. Like how did he find us here? Any ideas about that, little sister?"

"How should I know why Marcel does what he does?"

"You think I don't know about your engineered runnings all over the Quarter? I _know_ , Rebekah, you've had private chats with him. So just tell me. What secrets has he confided to you?" He makes a pause, almost afraid of the answer he'll get. "Is he plotting against me?"

Rebekah regards him studiously before leaning forward, staring right into his eyes. "My poor brother. So paranoid. Marcel knows nothing. He's not plotting against you, he simply thinks you're in a quarrel and in need of making up."

"Perhaps we will," he says, a little relieved. "After all, you know I'm capable of forgiving those who disappoint me... As soon as they've seen the error of their ways. And suffered for them. You do well to remember that," he says, drinking the last of his bourbon. "I need a refill."

He leaves his sister to stew in her own thoughts.

Having one sibling against him is enough for today.

Now, he could use a fresh, breathing snack. Or ten.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 1: I hate that thing with the needle so much, but the I needed to keep it for the sake of DRAMA and because the developments are kind of important. So if you think that's just stupid, don't blame me. It's 100% canon.
> 
> A/N 2: You may have noticed there are some minor timeline inconsistencies here if we compare to the show's actual timeline. Hayley sleeps with Klaus on TVD S04E16 and he leaves for New Orleans on E20, right after prom. So, technically, if I wanted to make this story 100% accurate, he should've already slept with Caroline by then. But for the sake of the story I wanted to tell concerning Klaus and Caroline, just ignore the whole E16 bullcrap (Klaus never sleeps with Hayley!!) and consider the dates post-prom were all pushed forward. That's it.
> 
> So... thoughts?! :)


	8. S01E08 The River in Reverse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shout out to the always awesome [coveredinthecolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/pseuds/coveredinthecolors) for helping shape this into a better read. Still, you will find several mistakes that are entirely my own. For that, I apologize!
> 
> Thank you very much to everyone who has been reading this story and for all your kind reviews and messages. :) It means the world to me and really helps me keep going with this monster of a fic. Your feedback is always VERY much appreciated, so please, let me know your thoughts! :)

Rebekah eyes her brother suspiciously, marveling at the apparent change in him. The grim, pitifully drunk man from yesterday seems to have vanished with the night.

She doesn't allow herself to be fooled by his high spirits, though. Rebekah has lived with Nik long enough to know that it's precisely when he looks the most harmless that one has most cause for concern. When he doesn't mean to bite he's all bark. But when he's preparing to strike — well, you never see it coming.

Sometimes she wonders if their mother really did lay with a werewolf or if Klaus is actually the child of a snake. A really venomous one.

She didn't see him leave last night, but somehow he showed up with a girl this morning. Rebekah has no idea if she spent the night here, or if Nik just brought her in for breakfast. Some strange loyalty instinct inside of her makes her hope it's the latter, for Caroline's sake. Personally, she thinks that girl would be better off getting over her brother, but it's obvious to anyone that the two idiots still have a lot of unresolved feelings for one another — well, obvious to anyone _but_ the two of them, that is.

She'd say she hopes her brother isn't the kind of wanker who leaves the girl he knocked up stranded in the Bayou and brings someone else home, but, to be honest, that wouldn't even be the worst thing Nik did this week.

"I thought Caroline said no more live food," she says as he bites into the girl's arm and fills a cup with her blood. She doesn't even flinch, compelled beyond salvation.

"I don't see Caroline anywhere, do you?" he replies dryly." Would you like some?"

"No, thank you. I've drank from a bag."

"Your loss. She is deliciously fresh." He shrugs, sipping from his cup as he sits down, licking his lips.

"I'm not cleaning it up, just so you know. You're gonna have to explain yourself to Caroline when she comes home."

A muscle twitches on his jaw, his eyes flashing for just the briefest of seconds. Too fast for her to identify it, but enough for her to be sure that this apparent tranquility is all but a mask.

Rebekah knows this as the calm before the storm.

"Have you spoken to our good friend Marcel today?" he inquires.

"No. Should I have?"

"Well, he's been mysteriously silent. Avoiding me, some might say. I thought, perhaps, he may have whispered reasons into your ear, along with all those sweet nothings. I know you two have been getting cozy." His smile is full of dimples.

Rebekah smiles back, certain that it does not meet the murder in her eyes in the least. "If I see him, I'll be sure to ask if he's still sore at you."

He sighs, putting down his cup. "Let me give voice to that look in your eyes. ‘My saintly, noble brother lies writhing in agony in the Bayou, victim of my bastard brother's bite when just one or two drops of his blood would ease his pain.’"

It's exactly what Rebekah's thinking, minus the bastard part, but she merely shrugs nonchalantly. "On the contrary, Nik. I am simply enjoying my brekkie, waiting for Elijah's healthy return."

"Oh, come on, Rebekah. You've been giving me the devil's eye all morning. Out with it."

"Are you sure you want to hear it? Because the truth is I'm concerned that if I voice my opinion about what you did to Elijah, I will end up on the wrong side of your toxic hybrid teeth."

"Poppycock. I would never bite you," he says, pointing at her. Rebekah scoffs. "Elijah made some very offensive accusations about my intentions towards my child. He deserves a day or two of discomfort."

"And your way of proving him wrong was to leave your child's pregnant mother stranded in the Bayou with him."

He looks away, pretending to busy himself with a toast. "I never told her she had to stay there. It was her choice." He keeps his voice even, but she can hear all the sharp edges of his resentment.

Rebekah shakes her head. "For someone who claims to be as smart as you, Nik, you can sure be completely clueless."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you might actually get what you want and push Caroline and Elijah together with your paranoia. And it'll be no one's fault but your own."

He narrows his eyes at her just a tad, his lips pursing. "Careful, sister. I won't bite you, but you know my preferred method of punishment for your indiscretions is the dagger."

Rebekah feels her blood boiling inside her veins. She stands up, leaning over the table to breathe hot in her brother's face as she says, "There is something fundamentally wrong with you."

Her appetite suddenly gone, Rebekah leaves Niklaus to his compelled snack and stalks out. In moments like this, she has to wonder whether Elijah isn't crazy as well, for thinking there's any hope for someone like Klaus.

She's going to see Marcel, all right. But not for the reason he thinks.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Elijah comes to with a loud gasp.

For the past so many hours, he's been falling in and out of consciousness. It took a lot longer than Caroline remembers with other vampires, but the poison must be reaching its peak action in his system. If Elijah wasn't an Original, he'd be long dead by now. On the other hand, though, his suffering is being painfully drawn-out.

Sometimes he knows where he is and what's happening, sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he recognizes her, sometimes he calls her Celeste. It's made Caroline curious. Whoever this Celeste person is, Elijah clearly has very fond memories of her: the way his eyes soften, full of tenderness, when he thinks she's the one he's talking to. Too bad she doesn't know a word of French, because she has no idea what he's saying. It sounds very loving, though — and also extremely intimate, so maybe it's for the best that she can't understand him.

This time, when his eyes become focused again and he finally sees her, he says, "Caroline".

"Hey," she smiles, sitting down next to him with a mug in her hand. "Here. Drink this."

"What is it?"

"Just some herbs I found nearby. The stove is working, surprisingly, so I made a kind of tea. It's not really effective against werewolf bite, but it's supposed to help you feel more comfortable."

With some effort, he manages to lift his head. Caroline helps by taking the mug to his lips. But as soon as he takes his first gulp, Elijah starts coughing and spits everything out.

"Forgive me," he says, reigning himself in, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Caroline gets the feeling he is incredibly embarrassed by the situation, ashamed that she has decided to stay back and help him out. Like any of this is his fault.

"It's ok," she says, putting the mug away. "Are you sure you don't want any blood?"

He shoots her a hard look. "I said no."

"It'll be fine, Elijah. It's just a little bit of blood."

"I'm not feeding on you, Caroline."

"But if it would help you heal faster -"

"It won't. And the state I'm in— I don't know that I'd be able to stop. This is not up for debate."

She sighs in resignation. "Remind me to beat the crap out of your brother when you're feeling better."

"Yes," he says, slumping back against the pillows. "Remind me to remind you to get in line."

"It doesn't help much that we're in the middle of the swamp. If we'd been home, I could probably make that tea more palatable with some honey and cinnamon."

"It's not the tea. The venom will run its course. Besides..." He stops, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath. "I can't be moved. I should stay as far away from civilization as possible. In fact -"

Elijah is interrupted by another violent coughing fit. Caroline leans forward, putting an arm around his shoulder to help him into a sitting position.

"I'm fine," he speaks after a moment, more air than voice, but the creases on his brow and his bloodshot eyes tell a different story. He's obviously in a lot of pain, but trying to put up a strong face.

"You know, Elijah, you don't have to pretend. I've seen what werewolf bite does to a vampire."

"I'm not just any vampire."

"Yeah, and Klaus isn't just any werewolf."

He stares at her like he wants to debunk her logic, but lets out a defeated breath instead when he can't come up with anything.

"You don't have to stay here," he insists.

"Where else would I go?"

"Home."

Caroline snorts in derision. "Right, because I'm just _dying_ to spend some quality time with your brother right now. Thank you, but I'd rather stay right here in the swamp."

"Caroline, please," he presses. "This fever will make me unstable. Once the hallucinations begin I'll start to see things. I'll say things." She considers telling him he's already doing that, but decides to save him the embarrassment. "You must leave me here."

"I'm not leaving you here like this, Elijah. You got that bite because you came out here to help me. If things get ugly, I can take care of myself. But I'm not going anywhere."

A calm half-smile graces his lips then, and he looks at her with such tenderness that she has to look away to disguise the flush on her cheeks. This is exactly the kind of thing that would drive Klaus out of his freaking mind, she thinks. But it's his own goddamn fault for leaving his brother so debilitated. She hasn't known Elijah for long, but she has utmost trust that he would do the exact same thing for her and, in a city like New Orleans, Caroline has learned very fast that true friends should be cherished.

Klaus can bite her as well if he doesn't like it.

 

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When Marcel arrives at the compound, everyone has already gathered around.

He asked Diego to get all the daywalkers to meet him at one of the hidden rooms in the dungeons beneath the main building. Normally he'd only take his innermost group there. It's the privatest part of his private quarters, after all. But this meeting is not only important, it's also extremely confidential. If what that kid told him last night is true, then they have a problem in their hands that is like nothing Marcel's faced in all the one hundred odd years he's been at the helm of the ship in New Orleans. This could change everything — and not just for the city. It could change the balance in the _world_ for generations to come. And it'll start right here, in his backyard.

Davina's already taking care of Josh, who had been spying for Klaus all this time. Clever, actually. Any other day he would've killed the kid without a second thought or at the very least walled him up for a couple decades in the garden to teach him a lesson.

But that would've been unfair. It wasn't Josh's fault Klaus got to him before Marcel could shove vervain down his throat. There was nothing he could do against an Original. Besides, he kinda likes the guy. And so does Davina, judging by the messages she's sent him detailing their progress in breaking Klaus' compulsion. Having Josh to play double agent will prove invaluable to their plans if they are to take down the Mikaelsons.

That's not to say that Klaus couldn't have infiltrated the group more deeply, taken one or two of his daywalkers as well. It's unlikely, because Marcel makes sure they never skip their daily doses of vervain now that the city is crawling with Original vampires, and he hasn't noticed any of them missing for longer periods of time. But there is no such thing as being too cautious around that family. Since the thing with Thierry, Marcel has been having a hard time fully trusting his guys. He would've put his whole life in Thierry's hands, and look what he did... Because of a witch, nonetheless.

Klaus has been back in town for just a couple of months and already Marcel is becoming paranoid. Like father, like son...

"Everyone is here," Diego tells him. Marcel can tell he's dying to know what this meeting is about. Diego's always been a bit too eager. Marcel loves him to bits, but he's no Thierry. He misses his old friend's calm composure.

"All right," he says, rubbing his hands and putting on a smile for show. Confidence is the mark of a true leader. "I'll keep this simple, then. I brought someone here who has something interesting to share with us."

He makes a signal and the kid stands up at the back of the room. Marcel told him to stay hidden until he showed up, just to avoid an unnecessary commotion. Diego _loathes_ werewolves.

"Who's that?" Diego asks, fixing the newcomer with a death glare.

"Chill, Diego. He's not an enemy." He motions for Diego to calm down and the vampire takes a seat, crossing his arms in front of his chest stubbornly. "This kid is an old foe of your favorite person, Klaus. He's got plenty to say about what that traitorous son of a bitch has been up to behind my back. Now, for those of you faint of heart, there's the door, because those who stick around, you're signing up for battle." Marcel looks each and every one of them straight in the eye. Some of them are reluctant, nervous even. Klaus has left quite an impression after that bite on Thierry. But their hatred keeps them steady, and so no one leaves. Marcel is quite proud of his men: they may be scared, but they're loyal to the bones. "All right, then. Gather around, take a seat. Tyler here is gonna tell you a story."

He nods to Tyler Lockwood, the half-werewolf, half-vampire boy who came to him last night with the most absurd story Marcel's ever heard. He would've laughed it off as despair from someone with a lot of hatred for Klaus — if Rebekah hadn't confirmed everything. It's completely bonkers, but apparently Klaus Mikaelson really _is_ that special that he can even procreate. There's irony in the fact that the deadliest of them all is also the only one who can create life.

All eyes turn to Tyler as he starts to speak.

"You all know Klaus wasn't always a hybrid. When he broke the curse that kept his werewolf side dormant, somewhere in all that, certain parts were now able to trump his vampire side. Like the ability to pass on the werewolf gene. That's where the witch girl who's been hiding from all of you comes in."

"Wait a second," Marcel says. "She's a _witch_?"

"You didn't know?"

Suddenly, everything makes sense. The magical activity Davina picked up in the Bayou yesterday, when Klaus and Elijah went to find her... It was so far Marcel didn't think he had to worry about it, even though Davina mentioned it being a strong one and not familiar to her at all, which could point towards an outsider with a different magic source. Marcel asked her to inform him if she picked up on anything closer to the French Quarter, but there was nothing, so he decided to drop it as just someone passing by. It's not unheard of; New Orleans is, after all, a magnet for supernatural creatures of all sorts. And werewolf packs like to travel around with witches. Could be that one of those groups had decided to stop by to say hello to their distant cousins stranded in the Bayou. But it was her.

So Klaus knocked up a witch. And one who does not share Davina's ancestral magic. How convenient.

"I grew up with her," Tyler continues. "We've known each other since we were kids. She was my girlfriend all through high school. But then Klaus killed my family, threatened me and I was forced to run for my life. When I came back, she had hooked up with him. He always had a thing for her, but I never thought she would reciprocate the feelings of a monster. Now she's pregnant with his kid."

Diego scoffs. "What the hell is this?"

"Just listen, Diego," Marcel warns.

"When Klaus became a hybrid, he made it his life's mission to figure out a way to turn full-bred werewolves into creatures like him. You're looking at one of them right now." Everyone exchanges suspicious looks, a ripple of uncertainty suddenly going around. The word _hybrid_ has been creeping people around lately, no wonder they're uncomfortable to be in a room with one. They're probably just as shocked as Marcel was to find out Klaus not only had acquired the lethal bite of a werewolf, but had found a way to make more like him. It's the stuff of nightmares. "On the plus side, we had all the perks of being vampires. We were stronger, faster, and the toxins in our bites could still kill a vampire, even in our human forms, which we were now in complete control of. We didn't have to turn on full moons anymore. I could do it anytime, or no time at all, and we were still deadly. But on the downside..." Tyler makes a pause, sending Marcel a cryptic look. "We were loyal to him. Supernaturally loyal."

"Right, and that's why you're here, spilling all his secrets," Diego snaps.

"No, that's the point, Diego," Marcel explains. "He figured out a way to break free from it."

"And I helped the rest of them, too. Then Klaus killed them for their betrayal. And I had to leave."

"Because that's what Niklaus does." All heads snap around like thunder when Rebekah walks in. "Don't mind me; I'm fascinated by this story. Hello, Tyler," she says, smiling.

"Rebekah. Long time no see."

Tyler was aware that Rebekah would be showing up, but even he looks uncomfortable with her presence. Marcel figured as much. His guys have every reason not to trust the Original family, and by the little he's heard from Tyler about the Mikaelsons' time in Mystic Falls, he doesn't have a lot of sympathy for her, either. She used to do Klaus' bidding, showing up at his house in the middle of the night with compelled people she'd pick up on the street to force him to feed. Klaus wanted him strong and bloodthirsty, Rebekah would say. As much as he didn't want to, he didn't have a choice. As soon as she said it was Klaus' command, Tyler couldn't stop himself.

It's understandable that he wouldn't trust Rebekah. But Tyler doesn't know her like Marcel does. Doesn't know half the things Klaus has done to her, how he's ruined her life time and time again, gotten in the way of her happiness. How he kept the two of them apart out of jealousy.

Maybe he is crazy for following a girl he hasn't seen in almost a century so blindly. Maybe it'll come back to bite him in the ass. Wouldn't be the first time with the Mikaelson lot. Marcel may not be sired to her, but he can understand the feeling of being incapable of saying no to someone, almost like every cell in your body has been programmed to answer in a certain manner. Rebekah is like that to him. An addiction. One hundred years apart and he still feels weak in the knees at the sight of her, like the little boy he was the first time he saw her... A beautiful goddess whose hair shined like the sun. He just can't resist her.

If there's a chance Marcel could have everything — the city, the throne and Rebekah — then he's willing to fight for it. Even if that will put the two of them in Klaus' blacklist, like all those years ago. It's still worth a try.

"What Tyler was about to tell you lot is that my brother’s main source to sire new hybrids has been extinguished. But we just found out he can use his baby's blood to continue on with his world domination plan," Rebekah says to a collective gasp. "What you will all figure out is that vampires such as you don't stand a chance. So Tyler, I assume you were trying to rally this lot into making sure the baby isn't born?"

"Yeah. You don't like it, go ahead and take your brother's side, but you know I'm right."

"I believe you've mistaken the lady's intentions," Marcel smirks.

"All right, what's going on?" Diego demands impatiently, standing on his feet.

"You're absolutely right, Tyler. My brother is a crap enough individual as it is. The last thing he needs is to sire a superior species. Go on, you can tell them," Rebekah nods to Marcel.

"She's not here to fight us," he announces to a bewildered crowd. "She's here to help us."

"Exactly. But first." In a blur, Rebekah flashes to Tyler, much faster than any normal vampire ever could, and snaps his neck. Everyone jumps to their feet — including Marcel.

"What the hell, Rebekah?!"

She pushes Tyler away and takes a seat. "That is enough talk about harming that baby. Let's discuss strategy, but my niece is not to be touched," she says, crossing her legs. "It's Niklaus we're putting a stop to."

Words that sound like music to Marcel Gerard's ears.

 

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"They've all forsaken me," Klaus says, words coated in pure vile, while pacing his living room. "My siblings are deceitful and diseased as my parents ever were. Accusing me of using my unborn child for my own gain. Elijah–" He pauses when he notices the typing has stopped.

Cami is leaning over the desk, fixing a typo with correction fluid.

"Would a laptop kill you?" she grumbles.

"That typewriter was good enough for Hemingway."

"I can see the resemblance," she says with a scoff. "Booze and random acts of violence."

Klaus decides to let her snide remark go as she finishes fixing the paper back into the typewriter. He needs to get this part out of his chest, and since there's no one else around to listen to his rant, his stenographer will have to do.

"Elijah and Rebekah have cut to the quick with their vicious lies about me, when all I've done is try to win this battle of wills against Marcel in order to reclaim my home," he continues, hands clasped behind his back as he starts pacing once more. "And they've done it by driving Caroline away. They're using her to get to me. Thinking that by having her on their side, they'll be able to manipulate me — Cami, _type, please_."

She's completely relinquished her work now, slumped back against the chair, arms folded across her chest, giving him a stern look. He doesn't give her generous tips so she can judge him; he pays her just to _listen_ and _type_.

"What's the point?" she counters. "You just repeat the same thing over and over and over. We've been through several decades of your story and every few years or so, it's the same thing. Rebekah is out to get you. Elijah is out to get you. Now he wants your baby's mother. Is there anyone who isn't plotting against you? I doubt you trust your own reflection."

"If I can't trust my own family, then who will I trust?" he asks in a clipped tone.

"How about Caroline?"

Klaus huffs out in irritation. The mere mention of her name makes him crave for a glass of bourbon. "She'll trust anything that comes from Elijah's sweet lips before she trusts me. It's always like that. Elijah, the noble. The _good_ brother. I've never shown her anything but kindness. How fast has she turned on me." He downs the whole glass at once, immediately pouring himself some more.

"She didn't turn on you. Based on what you've told me so far, especially about your time in— what's it called again? Magic Waters?"

"Mystic Falls."

"Right. Mystic Falls. Sounds like she had valuable questions that you refused to answer, thus reinforcing her belief that you were lying to her. Why does it hurt your feelings so much to have her doubting your intentions?"

"Because I've done nothing to deserve her contempt!" Klaus growls furiously, almost smashing the glass in his hand.

With an air of infinite patience, Cami stands up. She takes a few tentative steps towards him, chin up, as she tries her best to pretend he doesn't scare her. The brave bartender is how Marcel described her after their first encounter: he let her go unharmed because she hadn't been scared.

Then again, she had no idea what they were. Now, when she looks at Klaus, she knows exactly what kind of beast she's facing — moreover, she knows she can't escape him. Running, hiding, it's not enough if he ever decides to finish her. A lesser person would bow down to him, follow his every command. Cami, as frightened as she is, tries to maintain a resemblance of control. Klaus can admire her spunk, even if he could do without her psycho-analysis bollocks. She's lucky her company is at the very least amusing to him. Otherwise, she would've probably been served as a main course for dinner already.

"Trust isn't something you can get once and retain for the rest of your life, Klaus," she starts, trying to get through to him with cool professionalism. "This girl, from what I understand, was brought to this city against her will, with no idea that she was even pregnant. I know it's hard, but you have to try and put yourself in her shoes. Can you imagine how terrified she must be all the time? How much of her trust do you think she's willing to offer freely to anything or anyone in this place? She probably doesn't take a single step without thinking before putting her foot down. And all you've done is act as though she's supposed to take whatever you say for face value when, in fact, you've done nothing to ascertain your bonds. She's reaching out to you, but your behavior keeps pushing her away."

Klaus feels as anger flares up, his face twisting into a scowl. The beast stirs inside of him, its golden glare flickering across his eyes. Cami stiffens noticeably, swallowing down hard.

"I'm not the one she seeks, the one she converses with, confides in," he says, his voice low and grave. "It's my brother."

"Because he's been there for her since day one, while you keep slipping away, waging a war against Marcel and deliberately leaving her out while she's here all on her own, isolated from everything and everyone. All day, every day. If Elijah is the one who shows an interest in her _company_ , don't you think it's natural that she'd gravitate towards him in times of need? The concept might be a little alien to you, Klaus, but people like to be valued as individuals, rather than as assets. I speak from experience," she says, punctuating her sentence with a snide little smile.

"If my daggers hadn't gone missing, I would solve this problem quite easily. Just put one through each of their hearts, rid myself of the burden of my siblings for a couple of centuries. That would end all my woes."

Cami shakes her head reprovingly. "Look at you. Repeating the same destructive cycles over and over again. That is exactly the kind of thing that drives people away. You are the architect of your own unhappiness, Klaus."

He knocks back the rest of his drink, enjoying the burn as the liquid washes down his throat. "I don't remember asking for your advice. I brought you here to type."

"Oh, really? So of all people in New Orleans, you choose someone with a masters in psychology to record your life story. You're over a thousand years old; I'm pretty damn sure you know how to type. The truth is, you compel me to come here because you have no one else to talk to. You fight with Elijah, you threaten Rebekah away, you go out of your way to keep a distance from the mother of your child, and then you get upset when nobody seems to understand you. So you compel me to be here, and then you compel me to forget everything as soon as I leave your presence because while you whine about not being trusted by the people you love, the truth is _you're_ the one who's too scared to trust."

"I'm scared of nothing," he hisses out, furiously.

"So your brother stranded in the Bayou with the girl you like doesn't make you flinch?" Klaus bites the inside of his lips, swallowing back a protest and several less than polite expletives. Camille smiles triumphantly, but only for a moment. "What you're doing here is the same thing you're doing to the other people in your life. You spend all your time away, plotting and scheming in the Quarter under the argument of trying to win back your city when, in reality, you're just dodging your responsibilities to the people in this house. Fatherhood scares you and you're afraid Caroline will think you're a fraud or a failure, so _you_ hide from _her_. The more you do that, the further apart from you she drifts, the more irritated you get, the more easily you lash out, the angrier she gets at _you_ , the less she's willing to trust you, the more she takes refuge in your brother's company. It's a cycle, Klaus, and it starts with you. If you want it to end, _you_ have to stop it. Talk more and sulk less. Stop pointing fingers at everyone."

A hot flush of anger shoots right through Klaus, and he suddenly remembers why exactly he doesn't mingle with humans. He considers how mad at him Caroline would be if she knew he ate Camille. Considering he's not exactly in her good graces at the moment, probably a lot. So instead of sinking his teeth into her like he wants to, he says, "I think we're done here."

Camille huffs out a mirthless laugh, shaking her head and collecting her belongings. "Call me when you feel like having a two-sided conversation instead of giving a monologue. You don't need me here for that."

She doesn't even know how lucky she is that Klaus had a feast for breakfast this morning. Had he been hungry, she wouldn't be leaving this house on her own two feet.

Now, where could his daggers be?

 

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Marcel shifts nervously as Klaus makes his way into the apparently deserted compound.

This is it.

Moment of truth.

They'll either take down Klaus Mikaelson once and for all, or they'll lose everything.

Part of him thinks this is a stupid idea. He literally grew up with the Mikaelsons. He _knows_ how strong they are, Klaus most of all. And he's only grown more powerful since his last stay in New Orleans. Deadlier than ever.

But Rebekah seems to think they have a real shot. A hundred vampires against one hybrid.

"He's strong, but he's not indestructible. I've seen him bleed. The kids in Mystic Falls used to get him all the time. It might take some fighting, but we can overpower him. Lock him up, throw the keys away until we figure out how to put him down. I'm sure Davina can figure it out."

Well, if his own sister is confident they can do it, then so is Marcel.

He wanted to have used that Tyler kid, enlisted his own hybrid form to help strengthen their ranks, but Rebekah was adamant that they should keep him out of it — Tyler would stop at nothing until the baby is dead. As much as Marcel might have concerns about this child, he can agree with Rebekah. He has a rule against harming children, even those whose blood can be used to sire entire armies of superior creatures. It's not the child's fault. And, according to Rebekah, neither is Caroline's.

"My brother became silly smitten with her and she was foolish enough to fall for his charm, but she had no idea she could get pregnant and, trust me, she hates the situation just as much as we do. Sometimes more, like when she gets ganged up by witches in the middle of the Bayou. Caroline is not the enemy and neither is her child. It's Niklaus we have to deal with."

Eliminating Klaus would be tricky in the best of circumstances, but Rebekah also revealed that they've recently learned that, when one of them dies, their entire sire line dies with them. Which means, if they kill Klaus, everyone he's ever turned dies with him. That implicates Marcel himself. So they need to put him down, but they can't kill him. Now how the hell will they do that?

Rebekah thinks there are spells for it. According to her, a witch named Bonnie Bennett found a way. They tried to contact her, but she wasn't answering her phone.

"You said she's friends with Caroline. Why don't we just ask her? She might know the spell."

"Not a chance. Caroline won't _ever_ agree to this."

"You just said she's not the enemy."

"She isn't. But that's not to say she wants my brother gone."

"Even if he torments her life?"

"It's more complicated than that. He is the father of her child and Nik is the only idiot in this world who doesn't seem to realize she has feelings for him still. So, no. Leave Caroline out of this."

The situation is far from ideal, but they can't let this go on any longer. When Klaus started calling him nonstop, Marcel knew there was something going on. And when he received the message _I want my dagger back_ , they knew it was time. He was thinking about putting his siblings down again — and he'd probably start with Rebekah. He was not about to let him do that to her again. So it was time to teach him a lesson.

Like this, all alone at the empty courtyard, he doesn't look like the larger than life creature Marcel knows him to be. He's not that tall, not physically dominant either. He looks like a spoiled white kid who's never known a single day of hard work. But all it takes to understand the force of nature that is Klaus Mikaelson is a glance at his ice cold grey eyes. They're deep, old and calculating. Even to a complete stranger who has no idea who he is, Klaus' eyes speak of danger. Marcel knows better than to underestimate him. He has his best and most trusted men just waiting for his signal.

Tonight is the night Klaus Mikaelson will know pain.

"Klaus," he says, finally stepping out of the shadows.

Klaus stops, turns around to face him, a stiffening across his face. He doesn't even know what awaits him yet and already he's angry.

"You've been avoiding my calls," he says, drily.

"A little pissed off lately."

"Apologies for my behavior can come later. You have something of mine. I want it back."

Klaus' eyes flash as Marcel fishes the dagger from the inside of his jacket. "Sorry," he says. "Can't do that."

He hears the sound of her heels before he feels her soft touch on his shoulder. Marcel offers Rebekah the dagger that had been stuck in Elijah's chest, and she takes it.

Klaus frowns. So he was expecting a trap of some sort. But not one involving his own sister. "What is this?"

"Apologies for your behavior?" Rebekah asks. "You don't apologize, Nik. You just act. I've had enough. _We_ have had enough."

His expression slowly morphs into a deceptively calm smile that does not meet the darkness in his eyes. "Well, look at you. Finally in possession of the one thing that can take you down. How does it feel, little sister?"

"Great."

"Enough talk," Marcel says, bringing his fingers to his mouth and whistling.

Half of his men come forward, out of every door, down the stairs, jumping from the roof. Klaus watches with an impassive expression.

"So this is it?" he speaks after a moment. "The evil bastard Klaus has gone too far, must be punished. And by his own sibling, nonetheless. How positively biblical. And you, Marcel. Is this your idea of a _hit_? I taught you better than this paltry excuse for a takedown. You think you can subdue me with this?!" His voice becomes increasingly angrier as he goes on, escalating to a shout.

"No. But I think this can." He whistles a second time, and then the rest of the guys come in, crowding the courtyard.

Even Klaus Mikaelson can't possibly overpower this many vampires. Some of those guys are as old as Marcel. They're strong, well fed and _angry_.

But if Klaus is concerned, he doesn't show it.

"Let's end this charade, shall we?" he says, a manic smile on his face. He puts his hand inside his pocket and takes out a coin. Marcel exchanges a look with Rebekah, who seems to be just as lost. "Vampires of New Orleans," Klaus starts, his voice booming loudly across the courtyard. "Do recall that I am an Original. A _hybrid_. I cannot be killed. You, on the other hand, can, and quite easily, as a matter of fact. To borrow a trick from an old friend..." He lifts his hand, showing them his coin. "Whoever picks up this coin gets to live. Now, which of you magnificent bastards would like to join forces with me?"

"Anyone wants that coin, pledge allegiance to Klaus, take it now. Go ahead. The choice is yours."

Marcel lets his gaze travel around the place, from face to face. Some of his men are antsy, perhaps even tempted to pick up the coin. He can understand the allure — not that he would forgive whoever did it, of course. But even the most uncertain of them don't want to join forces with a hybrid who's already shown himself to be more than a little unreliable. Klaus' word is only as good as his next mood swing. Who wants to pledge allegiance to someone like that?

His sirer looks a little crestfallen when no one volunteers to join him. Did he really think he'd made friends here?

Marcel smiles in triumph. "Take him," he orders, and then all hell breaks loose.

 

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Rebekah holds her breath when Marcel's vampires charge toward Klaus.

She wants her brother to learn a lesson. He needs to be stopped before he destroys everything, including his own life. Klaus is totally unhinged. He's daggered Elijah, bitten him, left him to wither away in fever and dementia in the Bayou, and not even Caroline could stop him this time. It won't be long before he drives her away as well — or worse.

Rebekah doesn't want to sit still and wait for Klaus to lose it completely.

But seeing as her brother gets beaten and stabbed by a mob of rabid vampires... She looks away, trying to block out the sound of Klaus' infuriated growls. It sends a pang of guilt shooting right through her.

Klaus has ruined her life so many times. He robbed her of entire centuries, daggering her for the pettiest of reasons. Like he has some divine right to control all his siblings just because he's the strongest of them all.

This is nothing compared to rotting away for decades in a box, but it still breaks her heart. He's still her brother. The sweet boy who used to sculpt her toys and bring her flowers from the woods. Then darkness took over and twisted him into this deranged, heartless monster she can hardly recognize anymore.

But when he screams... She remembers the way he'd shout and plead for their father to take pity on him, begging for forgiveness for things he hadn't even done just so he'd stop assaulting him. Rebekah would always go to him afterward, pick him up from the floor, tend to his wounds, hold him until he stopped shaking. Not even a thousand years have erased those memories from her mind. It remains as vivid as though it happened yesterday. And when Marcel's vampires tie him up with chains and start pulling him as though trying to rip him apart, it's all Rebekah can do not to stop them.

But then everything changes. There's a moment of unnatural silence in the middle of the chaos, and she senses Marcel going rigid next to her. She lifts her eyes to find Klaus' gaze. His eyes are golden; the veins on his face all popping and dark, his hybrid fangs grazing his bloodied lips.

The next thing she knows, he's breaking free of the chains and shaking vampires off him as though they were ants. One by one, they start to drop. Klaus rips their hearts out, severs their heads, and sinks his teeth deep into their skins, lacerating their throats. None of them can stop him. It's like a bunch of children trying to take on a giant.

Rebekah has never seen him like this before. She doubts even he knew he had this kind of strength. Klaus' hybrid had never been truly tested until this moment, and it is much more terrifying than anything she could've ever imagined. Her brother is a true force of nature. She understands it now, why her mother placed that curse on him, why she never wanted him to awaken his werewolf side. This is like nothing this world has ever seen.

Klaus is more beast than man. And he'll kill them all.

"Pick up the coin," she mutters, words tumbling over one another. "Pick up the coin, Marcel. He's going to kill all of us."

Marcel doesn't move, doesn't blink. He's frozen in fear, too shocked to even register that she's talking.

"Marcel!" she yells, panicking, yanking his arm. "Pick up the bloody coin!"

The younger vampire starts forward, kneeling down and taking the coin. He’s trembling, his face contorted in a bland of anger and grief. He feels responsible, Rebekah knows. These men would follow him to hell, and that’s exactly what this feels like. Hell.

"Enough!" he screams, his voice thundering above the sound of the battle.

Klaus stops, dropping the vampire whose heart he was about to squeeze in his fist. He's covered in blood from head to toe, his golden eyes flickering with a manic glint.

"Well, well, well," he says, an ugly smile on his face. He lifts his head to look around the courtyard, and Rebekah follows his gaze. Some of the vampires on the floor still writhe in terrible pain, some missing limbs, but not yet dead. Some stepped away and ran as soon as they realized what awaited them at the end of this battle. But her brother has killed a third of Marcel’s army. It was a bloodbath. They never stood a chance. "The great Marcel, self-proclaimed king of New Orleans, bowing before me."

Marcel swallows down hard, his face twisting into a scowl. "I hereby pledge my allegiance to you. You have the keys to my kingdom, Klaus. It's yours."

Klaus stops right in front of Marcel, and then his gaze lifts to meet Rebekah's. Cold gray eyes turned to steel. "That is correct," he says. "This kingdom is mine."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

An hour later, the adrenaline is only starting to wear off.

Klaus takes a deep breath, pouring himself a drink from Marcel's finest bourbon. He feels energized. Thrumming with a kind of power he didn't even realize he had. Maybe he should thank Marcel for the test-drive.

Ever since breaking his curse, Klaus was yet to release the full power of his beast. He'd come close to it the day he slaughtered his hybrids, but nothing compared to this. For a second there, he thought Marcel would win. He looked at all those vampires, jumping over him like a bunch of rats, and he felt despair seeping into his bones... And then something snapped. It was as though he wasn't himself anymore. Or he was, only... More. He stopped thinking, stopped breathing, and all he saw was red. And once the energy started flowing, it didn't stop.

Klaus would've gladly taken each and every one of them down, bathed in the blood of his enemies, and felt not a shred of remorse. But being a hybrid means he preserves his humanity even as his beast takes over. He heard Marcel's voice and regained control. He's quite proud of himself, actually. If there's one thing better than feeling invincible, is to have an absolute command over it.

They didn't know the full extent of Klaus' powers. Now they do. And he's certain they won't ever attempt anything that idiotic again.

New Orleans is his once more.

He should be happier about this.

Isn't it what he wanted? Destroy Marcel. Devastate his army. Take back his kingdom. The high of the action still pulses through his body like a force, but Klaus is not nearly as satisfied with himself or the situation as he should be.

It's because of Rebekah.

She betrayed him. His own sister, aligned with his enemy to take him down. How could she? What kind of hatred does she shelter in her heart that she was willing to watch as dozens of vampires tore him apart? That's awfully cold. Even for someone like Rebekah. Or especially for someone like Rebekah. He'd expect it from Finn. Even Kol. But not her. Not his favorite.

She hates him. His own sister hates him.

He'll concede that he's wronged her one too many occasions. He makes no excuses for his mistakes. But he loves her. Doesn't she know that? Klaus would _never_ plot against her this way. Let a bunch of lowlife strangers take her down with stakes and chains.

And while Rebekah plotted his demise here in the French Quarter, Elijah remains hanging by a thread in the Bayou — with Caroline.

His family is in shatters. They all despise him. And he's been trying so hard...

This pain he feels deep in his chest, that lump in his throat... It's not because of the fight. Not because he's injured. It's because he's heartbroken.

Klaus sees Marcellus cutting a lonesome figure on the second floor, watching as his new right-hand man, Diego, piles up the bodies and sets them on fire. It'll take some time, cleaning up this mess.

Klaus feels a bit of a stab as he approaches the man who was once like a son to him. He mourned Marcel's death once. Vowed to murder Mikael with his own two hands for what he did to New Orleans, and to his best friend. He would've murdered Marcel tonight if he hadn't picked up that coin. What a tragic turn of events, indeed.

"Looking at what you've wrought?" he asks, joining him.

Marcel sighs wearily. "If you're going to kill me, let's just get this over with."

"Why would I kill you?" he asks to Marcel's confusion. "You picked up the coin. There are rules of engagement in battle, Marcel. Without them, you'd have anarchy. I would, however, like to talk accommodations. Your living quarters, for example. I believe they used to be mine."

"You want the compound? Fine. It's yours. You can put me back on the streets for all I care. But let's make one thing clear, Klaus. You'll never have this," he says in a clipped tone, his voice thick with emotion, gesticulating towards the courtyard. The ones not dead are working in a morose, mournful rhythm, honoring their fallen comrades. "This is loyalty, Klaus. You can't buy it. You can't own it. You can't force it. It comes only out of love and respect for the people who believe in you. You taught me many things, Niklaus Mikaleson, but this I learned myself, and it's something that you will _never_ know."

The blow lands, but Klaus manages to keep it off his face. Marcel isn't wrong. While he had dozens of vampires willing to die for his cause, Klaus doesn't even have a sibling willing to do it. "Enjoy your kingdom." Marcel brushes by him and flashes down the stairs, disappearing from sight.

Klaus' eyes roam over his home. The one he built himself, now covered with bodies and painted red with blood.

He should be happy to be returning. It's what he wanted, after all. Move out of the swamp and that plantation house and back into the French Quarter, to the place that should've been his family's forever home.

But all Klaus feels is an impossible, overwhelming loneliness.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Caroline exhales loudly as they park the car in front of the plantation house.

That woman was taken from this house two nights ago, had to fight for her life against someone she never thought could hurt her, was exposed to some awfully uncomfortable truths about her child and then had to watch as her baby's father snapped. And still she sat diligently by Elijah's side for an entire day.

He only remembers some of it, spent most of that time trapped in a state of semi-consciousness, unable to tell reality from the fabrications of his feverish mind. But he clearly recalls telling her to leave several times, and her constant refusals. She slept in an old chair, ate some leftover crackers she found in one of the tents, but whenever Elijah's mind started wandering too far off, he'd feel Caroline's hand in his, hear her gentle voice telling him to stay calm, that he'd be all right.

Somehow it always brought him back.

Now that he's finally himself again, albeit still mildly uncomfortable and in desperate need of feeding, he can finally see that the past couple of days have taken a toll on her. She hasn't had a single hour of peace since the near miscarriage caused by the witches. Caroline is exhausted. Every line of her body speaks of a weariness that goes beyond the physique. Her mind is spent. Her soul. And yet she resisted and stayed in the Bayou with him.

Elijah can't put into words what he feels for her in that moment. Or rather, he doesn't dare to do it. The gratitude, the affection, the complete sense of devotion... It's overwhelming. Caroline Forbes is so much more than meets the eye. A weaker person would've already crumbled beneath the strain of her less than ordinary circumstances. The strength of that woman is something truly remarkable. He can see it so clearly, the _light_ his brother once spoke of.

How can Niklaus be such a monumental fool when it comes to her? He should be doing everything in his power to make sure Caroline is comfortable and that all her needs are met at all times. Instead, he tests the limits of her patience with every breath he takes. Elijah cannot imagine how his dimwit of a brother managed to win this girl's affections, but he must've done something right, because it's so obvious that, underneath the anger and indignation, Niklaus' outbursts and temper tantrums are _hurting_ her. She _cares_ about him. Truly. Caroline has seen his heart, the darkest parts of his soul, and yet she still believes that he is worth it. Doesn't he know how precious this is? How rare?

But it's just like Niklaus to ruin every good thing that comes his way. Because he loathes himself so much, he doesn't think anybody could ever truly love him. It's not usually a problem when it comes to strangers because Niklaus hardly ever finds himself caring enough about people. He uses them and throws them away as one who discards an old shirt, and the ones who insist normally end up dead.

Niklaus' had countless lovers over the centuries. Beautiful, colorful, smart. Elijah doubts more than a handful of those ever truly meant anything to him. But in the rare occasion where he does find something that moves him, touches his soul and leaves an impression, Niklaus becomes paranoid. Not in fear of losing, but in fear of getting lost himself. _Love is a weakness,_ is what he always says.

Well, Elijah doesn't think his brother's had a weakness quite as strong as Caroline in decades. Maybe longer. And it is doing his head in. He fights his own feelings as though it were an infection, lashing out left and right to drive Caroline away and thus prove a ludicrous point that she never truly cared about him in the first place. That no one in their right mind could ever love a monster.

Elijah doesn't know if what Caroline feels for his brother is love, but it could be, if nurtured right. Oh, how Elijah envies him... To be the recipient of such sentiment. He's often found himself wishing she would look at him the way she sometimes looks at Niklaus. He can't even say his brother doesn't know what he has, how lucky he is that, despite all the pain he inflicted upon the people of Mystic Falls, he's won her heart, even if only just. Klaus knows exactly what he has. Which is why he's so desperate. He's finally got something to lose. And right now, he's afraid he'll lose it to his own brother. The fool... Any idiot can see there's a clear difference in the way Caroline treats them. He's a friend to her, someone she can trust. Niklaus is... More. The only reason he hurts her so much, why he angers her so, is because she expects more from him, _wants_ more from him.

Elijah has made an ironclad resolve to suppress his heart's true desires, but that doesn't stop him from wondering what it would be like if he could put up a fight.

"Are you sure we're ready for this?" Caroline speaks after a long pause, staring grimly at the house.

"We'll have to face him sooner or later. There's no point in delaying it."

"Yeah, I know," she says around a sigh. She turns her face to him, watching him studiously. "Before we go in..." she hesitates, biting on her lower lip as though considering whether to continue.

"What is it?" he prods.

She looks away, down to her own lap, and then back up. "What happened to Celeste?"

Elijah freezes as a cold spreads through his chest. He hasn't heard that name in centuries. And yet, even so many years later, he can feel all the cracks in his heart as though they were brand new.

"Where did you hear that name?"

"From you," Caroline says apologetically. "You kept calling her name while you were in the high of your delusions. Sometimes you'd look at me and... I think you were seeing her. Or... remembering something from the past. And every time I touched you, you pulled me into your mind. I saw her — but I wasn't trying to pry, I promise, I really didn't mean to do it." There's a pause, and then, slowly, a tiny smile creeps onto her face. "She was really hot. And it seemed like you really cared about her."

Brilliant. So he was hallucinating Celeste. Of all the things he could've thought of...

But he knows exactly why he must've thought of her, doesn't he? It's New Orleans. It's Niklaus becoming unhinged again. It's someone he cares about getting caught in the crossfire.

"That's not important," he says after a moment. Speaking about Celeste still brings a sour tang to his mouth.

"A thousand years of memories and that's what breaks through your fever brain? Of course it's important."

Elijah takes a breath, tapping his fingers lightly over the wheels. Caroline stood by his side through his Niklaus-induced sickness. If that has led her to hear and see some of his memories of Celeste, then she at least deserves some explanation.

But words do not come easily to him.

"Celeste was murdered," he finally tells her. "I found her drowned in a bathtub."

"God... I'm so sorry."

"It was a cruel and bloody time to be a witch. Courtesy of my wonderful brother."

"What?" Caroline sits up straighter, her eyes burning on Elijah as he keeps his face forward. "Klaus killed her?"

"No. Celeste died because of me. Because I cared too deeply for her. I allowed my brother to slip through my grasp. I loosened the reins while Celeste consumed my every moment. I abandoned him in the name of my own happiness. And as always, he got out of control. Celeste paid the price."

"I don't understand."

"Niklaus started piling up the bodies all over New Orleans. And to not attract our father's attention across the ocean, he spread a rumor that it was the witches who were behind the slaughter, seeking victims for blood sacrifices. It set the other factions on edge. Witches started being hunted, and I didn't stop the rumors or took control of Niklaus' bloodthirst in time. I'm sure he didn't mean for Celeste to be murdered, but... He also didn't care if she was."

Elijah made the mistake of not making it very clear to his family how much Celeste meant to him, to put out a clear sign that she was under his protection and no harm should come to her. He thought that by keeping Niklaus as far away as possible she'd be safe. His brother is known to let jealousy take the best of him, and his possessive nature was all focused on his family at the time. Rebekah was always his favorite victim, but nothing guaranteed he wouldn't act the exact same way towards Elijah.

Hiding his feelings from Klaus was, in the end, what sealed Celeste's horrible fate.

Maybe Elijah should learn from his past missteps.

"I don't get it," Caroline says. "Why are you still here, trying to put this family together? None of what is happening involves you. You don't have to put yourself through all this for him."

"Niklaus is broken. And to me, the very definition of the word broken suggests that something can be fixed." He finally turns to face Caroline, who's clearly confused. He smiles. "I have all eternity to accomplish one single task. My brother's salvation. If I surrender this, then tell me, what value would I be to my family? To myself? To -" Elijah stops himself, correcting what he was going to say. "To your child?"

Caroline nods, turning her face back to the window. "So this is why _I'm_ here. So you can tie a rope to my miracle baby and rescue her father from the depths of despair. Incubator."

"Caroline, that's not–"

"I get it," she says, and when she faces him again, it's with a harsh kind of determination in her blue eyes. "It's not about me. I'm not important. I'm just a means to an end for your family. You've stuck together for a thousand years and I'm... No one."

"That is not true."

"It's what you just said. As a matter of fact, it's what you've been saying all along, that the purpose of my baby is to save her father's immortal soul."

"That's not what I–"

"Let me just make one thing very clear for you, Elijah. I'm not letting any of you take this baby away from me, I don't care what noble reason you might have," Caroline says looking him dead in the eye with a kind of ferocity he hadn't seen in her before. A mother protecting her child. "You're gonna have to kill me first."

With that, she releases the seat belt and steps out of the car, storming off into the house.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Klaus watches from the window as Elijah parks the car in front of the house. Took them long enough. He was beginning to wonder if they were ever coming home, or if he'd never see his brother and the mother of his child again.

Truth be told, it wasn't a possibility he'd considered when he bit Elijah and left him to waste away in the Bayou. But as time went by and there was no news from them, Klaus began to worry. His concern, however, didn't make him feel sorry; it just made him angrier. No doubt Elijah took the opportunity to spend some time with Caroline, being at the center of her undivided attention as they shared their antipathy for the bastard brother.

It takes them a while to climb out of the car. He can't really see or hear them from where he is, but his mind is quick to populate the blank space with colorful and revolting imagery. They're holding hands. Discussing how they're going to tell Klaus that _something_ happened while they were stranded in the swamp. That they've decided to leave the house, find somewhere else for just the two of them, away from his toxic influence. _Kissing_.

His blood is already boiling in his veins when Caroline finally comes out, but she doesn't look happy at all. Quite the opposite. She seems grated, slamming the door behind her and stomping her way to the house, not waiting for Elijah to follow.

Klaus smiles in spite of himself. He feels no mirth, but for once he's glad to be wrong about something.

"Elijah is home and there's only one dagger," Rebekah says. He was paying so much attention to the scene unfolding outside he didn't notice his sister swift approach. He can, however, feel her apprehension even with his back turned to her. His eyes move down to the silver dagger in his hands. "Which one of us will you be punishing today?"

Tough question, indeed. He's been asking himself the exact same thing. If Elijah had made a move on Caroline, he's certain which one he'd be feeling most incline to dagger this evening. But since he apparently didn't — and has, somehow, managed to make her upset — well... It's all open.

"I've contemplated a game of eeny, meeny, miny, moe," he says, turning his face to glance at Rebekah from over his shoulder. Her face twists in indignation — how can she really think she still has the right to be angry here when she has literally aided Marcel in ambushing him?

Before she can offer her scant excuses and attempt to pathetically turn this on him again, Klaus flashes to her, grabbing her from behind and touching the dagger to her neck.

"You betrayed me," he seethes. The words feel lodged in his throat, clawing out of his mouth. It hurts to say it out loud. "My own sister."

"Niklaus, don't you dare."

Oh. Yes. The virtuous brother returns.

Klaus releases Rebekah, turning around to face Elijah with the dagger pointed towards him. "Perhaps it should be you then, brother. Stealing my child away with every fawning moment of tenderness you show Caroline."

"This has nothing to do with Caroline."

" _It has everything to do with her!_ " Klaus bellows, the bitterness he feels in his chest bleeding into his voice, his eyes prickling with unwelcome tears. "Since the day she arrived, you've been on your absolute best behavior, hiding behind that mask of integrity, and she's adored you. You knew how I felt about her. And now my child, my blood, will grow up to call _you_ father!"

Elijah's eyebrows snap together as he shakes his head. "Can you even hear the absurd you're saying?"

"Is that what this is?" Rebekah asks, her voice breaking as her eyes fill with tears. "You are once again worried that you'll be left behind? Has history taught you nothing? We don't abandon you, Nik. _You_ drive us away."

Klaus feels as the worst of his anger abandons his body, leaving only a terrible sorrow in its wake. He puts down his arm. "What have I done lately, other than cooperate?" he asks. "I bowed down to you, brother, to make up for daggering you, for the greater good of our plan to reclaim our home. Looked the other way, sister, while you repeat the same cycle with Marcel, falling again for a man you shouldn't be with while he controls the empire that _we_ built. _That he took_!" He stops, calming himself so he won't start yelling again before continuing. "Now I make no excuses for past sins, but in the one moment when you two could've chosen to stand by me, to believe in me, believe my intentions were pure, you chose to stand against me, to take what I wanted and side with my enemies."

It's only as he speaks that Klaus realizes what the source of all his turmoil truly is. His siblings have abandoned him when he needed them the most. Maybe not physically, but they were so quick to withdraw their support, to the point Rebekah was even willing to have him put down by whatever means necessary. And Elijah... He didn't think twice before accusing him of wanting to harm his own child. Caroline's mistrust is no less harmful than Elijah's, but Klaus can understand where it comes from. Her history with the Lockwood boy was altogether dictated by Klaus’ obsession with siring himself an army of hybrids. But his brother shouldn't put Tyler Lockwood's word before his. He should know better.

Klaus doesn't claim to be perfect. Far from it. He's made too many mistakes in the past few months, since this whole baby havoc started. But can't they see he's trying? Can't they understand that it has affected him, just as it has affected Caroline? Why do they expect her to react badly, to the point she tried to get an abortion without telling anyone, but not him? Why would Rebekah and Elijah ever bloody think that Klaus would wake up one day all set to become a father? He's never wanted this. But he is _trying_. His family should offer him support; instead, they turn their backs on him.

And then they ask themselves why he doesn't trust anyone.

"I wanted our home back. Now I have it. So I'm going to live there," he announces, walking to Elijah and looking him straight in the eye as he puts the silver dagger in his hand. "You two can stay here together and rot."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

" _It has everything to do with her!_ Since the day she arrived, you've been on your absolute best behavior, hiding behind that mask of integrity, and she's adored you. You knew how I felt about her. And now my child, my blood, will grow up to call _you_ father!"

Caroline feels her heart clench at Klaus' troubled accusation.

He's so wrong he doesn't even know it. So taken with jealousy and hurt that he can't even see how absurd what he's saying is. How so very little connection to reality it has. Their child, growing up to call Elijah father? Where the hell did he get that from?

It's sheer paranoia, and the very reason behind everything that's been wrong with Klaus since Caroline arrived in New Orleans. But for some reason, instead of feeling angry or outraged, she feels... Sad.

Even if he's going about this completely wrong, even if he's turning on Elijah when his brother's done absolutely nothing, Caroline realizes that what's motivating his outburst is fear. Klaus never wanted this child, and she still has no idea how he feels about it because he won't _talk_ to her like a normal person, but this tells her that, at some point, he's started to think of himself as a father. Or at least as someone who’s going to have a child, which is an entirely different thing. And as with everything else in his life, the second something manages to get his guard down, he becomes mad with fear of losing it. Now he's scared he'll lose his own daughter before he’s even ready to accept his role as a dad.

If he'd only communicate with her, then he would know how crazy this assumption is. Then again, the Mikaelson way has rubbed off on her as well. She hasn't been the best at translating her feelings either — unless it's anger or annoyance or indignation. That she's been stellar at. It's the rest that is complicated. Klaus thinks he's the only one struggling with impending parenthood. He hasn't got a clue.

Caroline knew he'd be in one of his moods when they came home, but she wanted to let the siblings have a moment before she got sucked into the mayhem. They had things to sort out between themselves and her presence would only make it worse. So she stayed back, but paying attention. If Klaus tried to do anything, she'd stop him, even if she had to use magic. It would be a good lesson on how to solve his problems through honest conversations rather than jumping straight to aggression.

What she wasn't expecting, however, was for Rebekah to add to Klaus' misery while they were gone. She has no idea what the youngest Mikaelson did, but by the sounds of it, it was worse than Elijah — who didn't really do anything, except in Klaus' lunatic head.

She stands outside the room, listening to their conversation — which they weren't even trying to make private, the way they were yelling at each other — ready to barge in, and for a second there she really thought she would've. But then something changes. The ire in Klaus' voice dwindles considerably as it starts to break at the edges. He's not angry anymore; he's heartbroken.

Klaus doesn't help himself or make it easy for anyone to take his side. He's the cause for most of his own problems. But still Caroline finds herself feeling a dash of sympathy. The past 48 hours of her life would make any normal person snap, but as hard as it was on her, and as entitled to her rancor as she feels she is, she wasn't the only one caught in the torment. Klaus was there, too. Things have been tough for everyone.

_"I wanted our home back. Now I have it. So I'm going to live there. You two can stay here together and rot."_

What?

Klaus is _leaving_?

Caroline starts for the door, but before she can enter the room, he steps out, nearly bumping into her. His dark eyes are blazing when he sets them upon her, perhaps a little overbright, and Caroline's certain she sees a flash of hurt there before something in them slides down.

"Where are you going?" she asks, trying to keep the abrupt wave of despair that washed over her off her voice, but failing.

"Home," he says, drily. "And you're coming with me."

"Why?"

"Because, Caroline, you-" he starts, stops, seems to ponder over what he wants to say. "You and that child you're carrying are the only things on earth that matter to me. Now, you can fight me on this, but you will lose. As will anyone else who tries to stop you from getting in the car," he speaks loudly, turning his face back towards the room where Elijah and Rebekah are surely paying attention to their conversation.

Caroline feels a bit of a pang somewhere. Klaus finally seems to be ready to take some responsibility as a parent, which is what she's always wanted since her very first day in New Orleans. But he's doing it all wrong, trying to cut off all ties to Elijah and Rebekah and isolating the two of them. Part of her doesn't want to go with him. She doesn't think he should be alone at the high of his insanity, but she also doesn't want to be the one to handle all that on her own.

Elijah is the one who's supposed to serve as Klaus' balance. She's pregnant, for goodness' sake. She's got enough on her plate with her baby's father spiraling out of control.

But his voice is so fierce and she is so exhausted that she doesn't even try to argue. Caroline just doesn't have the fire to fight Klaus. Besides... Putting her foot down right now will probably only make things worse.

So, instead, she just says, "Fine," completely devoid of emotion, and marches out of the house and straight to Klaus' SUV.

She told herself she would do anything so her daughter wouldn't have to grow up like she did, rejected by her father. But something tells her that maybe having mommy and daddy living together under the same roof may be slightly overrated.

This definitely doesn't feel like the happy family of her dreams.

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what some of you are thinking, because I was thinking it too. "Where's my KC????" _I know_. This chapter feels a bit filler-y because the episode feels a bit filler-y, but I couldn't just skip it altogether because a lot of very important things for the continuation of the story happen here. I'd be willing to bribe you with a quicker update if you're interested, but you have to let me know. If not enough people are reading or interested, I'll just update regularly.
> 
> Either way, looking forward to your thoughts on the developments on this chapter! Thanks very much for reading!


	9. S01E09 Reigning Pain in New Orleans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, because your response to the last chapter was absolutely amazing, here's an earlier update! :) Thank you so much for all your kind comments and messages letting me know you are enjoying the story and wanted me to release a new chapter sooner! It got me working on this asap. Hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> As always, I have to ask you to please excuse all the many mistakes you'll certainly find. They're all mine! But [coveredinthecolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/pseuds/coveredinthecolors) did whatever she could to help make this better. 
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH to everyone reading this! And please remember to review or drop me a note wherever if you do enjoy it! It really makes my day and helps me find my muse to try ad get this story out quicker. I can be easily bribed with comments, guys. I'm easy like that.

The one positive thing about having nothing to do — and no one to escape from, which is a welcome change — is that Caroline finally has some much needed time to get her pregnancy reading up to date. It's ridiculous that she's already twenty two weeks along and only now starting on the material that she should've had committed to memory four months ago.

It doesn’t take long for her to realize that she is a _mess_. Didn't take any of the nutrition supplements recommended for the first trimester, didn't do any of the exams that could diagnose possible complications early on, is still in the process of understanding what kinds of classes she should attend before birth... Lamaze, Bradley or Alexander? What are the best maternity hospitals in New Orleans and how long exactly will it take her to reach them, so she can be prepared and perfectly timed once the contractions start? What is the best, most comfortable milk pump that money can buy? Best strollers? Car seats? Bottles? _Jesus_. There is _so_ much to learn and to research and to think about and it is all highlighting how utterly not ready for motherhood she is.

She spent five months focusing exclusively on surviving and keeping the baby alive and not beating the crap out of the baby's father that she didn't even stop to acknowledge that there is an actual tiny person on the way, and that this demands certain arrangements, all of which she’s extremely behind on.

It's overwhelming, to say the least. So overwhelming, in fact, that she hasn't even taken the time to get to know the French Quarter. But at least she can see it from her balcony now, which she guesses is an improvement.

She likes to seat at the balcony with a cup of coffee and a book and just enjoy the city air in the morning. The view from her window at the plantation house was nice, but it got old pretty fast. Here at least she can hear the uproar of _life_ around her; people down on the street, the musicians, the vendors, the tourists. Every day is different. She read all there was to read about the Crescent City back at the plantation and would very much like to take a stroll across the Quarter one of these days. Maybe go to Café du Monde for some beignets, and stop by Rousseau's to glare at Sophie until she gives her some of that delicious gumbo she makes. For now, thought, taking a second to breathe without imminent death breathing down her neck is more than enough. Caroline's taking some time off of fearing for her life. And anyway, all the homework she accumulated over the months has been occupying pretty much all of her time.

"You do realize these books are all written by charlatans after the honest money of desperate mothers-to-be, right?"

Caroline lifts her head from her book to see Klaus leaning against the doorframe of her room, eyebrows arched at her.

Becoming obsessed with pregnancy reading and preparing for the baby's arrival also provided her with the perfect excuse to avoid Klaus. He talks to her, invites her for breakfast and dinner and even asks her opinion on stuff, like pictures he wants to hang on the walls and what furniture goes well with which room. Which she guesses is his way of waving a white flag, because since when does Klaus need anyone's opinions but his own? He even shares some of his plans with her, like how he's discussing with Marcel to have Davina moved into the compound, which... Caroline doesn't really know what to think of that. She has a strong feeling that this girl is being treated like a prisoner and Klaus makes no attempt to hide that he sees her as a spoil of war he now gets to collect along with the compound and the vampire army. The witches have all gone radio silent since Agnes' death and the vampires now all answer to him. They should, theoretically, be living a period of peace, but Klaus still acts as though they're suiting up for combat.

What he doesn't ever mention, however, is the big elephant in the room. He hasn't spoken of Elijah or Rebekah once, and whenever Caroline tries to bring up the subject, his face crumples up into a grimace and then the conversation is over. Elijah's texted her a couple of times to ask how she was doing, but she obviously hasn't told Klaus anything about it. Last thing she needs is him flipping out because she's stayed in touch with his brother.

The baby is another point that's been solemnly ignored in their mild, meaningless conversations, but, to be perfectly fair, it's not just his fault. He obviously doesn't make any efforts to contribute, but Caroline has no idea how to talk to him about it. It's just so weird. She can't imagine sitting down with Klaus to pick baby names or telling him that she might need a trip to the mall because her boobs are starting to get way too big for her bras.

Nope. Too awkward.

As much as she wishes he would participate more, something keeps her from taking the first step, and, since he apparently won't do it on his own either, that just leaves them at a stalemate. Rebekah's the one who's been hearing all about her sore boobs or the amazing benefits of slings through long texts. To her credit, she never tells Caroline to shut up, although she could tone down on the snarky remarks a bit.

Klaus addressing her pregnancy books is definitely a first.

Caroline smiles ironically at him. "Because you're obviously such an expert on babies. How many have you had again?" He grins, opening his mouth to retort but snapping it back shut when he can't think of anything. "Didn't think so. This is very interesting, actually. You should read it. There are lots of scientific facts here. For instance, did you know that a baby can hear you at 20 weeks? Your baby has been hearing all your crap for two whole weeks, so I'd be careful with the things I say if I were you. You wouldn't happen to know what your rhesus is, would you?"

"My rhesus?"

"I'm Rh negative, so it could be dangerous if you're a positive and the baby inherits it from you."

"Well, I haven't been known to be a positive anything, so," he says with a shrug. Caroline simply rolls her eyes at him. "Your absence was keenly felt during our dinner party tonight," he continues, finally entering the room. "I wish you'd been there."

Oh, yes. The dinner party. Klaus had been babbling non-stop about it all week, insisted that she should be there. He invited Marcel and some of his vampires into the compound to prove some stupid point on how he means no harm to them and intends to be a kind and fair ruler or whatever. He wanted to officially introduce Caroline to them as a good-faith gesture, so they wouldn't think he's hiding her from them on purpose. It's a mystery how she could possibly not get excited over the prospect of being displayed around like a prize horse.

"Vampires are so welcoming to witches in this city. I'm sure they missed me greatly," she counters crisply .

"They wanted to meet you. I told them to make it their life's mission to protect you, but most of them have never even seen you."

"I saw your full course meal ready to slit their wrists open in the kitchen, Klaus. No, thank you. I like to keep my food _in_ when I'm dining. Besides, I thought we agreed you wouldn't do this anymore?"

"You have to understand that I _need_ blood, love. I may not crave it as much as the ordinary vampire, for obvious reasons, but if I go on an extremely restrictive diet, I'll still desiccate."

"There are millions of ways for you to get blood that do not involve feeding off of compelled, innocent people."

He snorts dismissively. "You can't possibly mean for me to feed off of innocent bunnies like your friend Stefan. That's for the riffraff. Besides, fresh blood is exquisite. Nothing compares to it."

She points down to her belly. "Your kid is listening to this, father of the year."

Klaus rolls his eyes. "Tonight was a special occasion. I had to gain their trust, please their taste buds in order to placate their moods."

"And fresh blood was all it took to win their allegiance? Oh, geez. Why didn't we think of that before they tried to murder me?"

"I might have offered a little something else on the side."

"Such as?"

"Well, nothing much, really. Just something to assure them I have no intention whatsoever to use my child to sire new hybrids. They're going on a hunt in the Bayou."

Caroline puts down her book, blinking at Klaus. Did he just say what she thinks he just said? "You did what?"

"If there are no werewolves to be turned, then they have nothing to fear. You and my child are safe."

"You gave the vampires permission to go _slaughter_ the werewolves in the Bayou? The ones that were expelled from the city by Marcel and forced to live in squalor in makeshift camps in the middle of the bog? The same ones that _saved my life_? Saved your _child_? Those werewolves?"

Caroline's voice escalates as she goes, and by the time she's done talking, Klaus' expression has gone from carefree to sheer irritation, like a child that has just been caught doing something naughty but won't accept a reprimand.

Except the _something naughty_ involves the lives of people Caroline has a debt of gratitude towards.

"It's a necessity," he replies flippantly.

"No, it's not! These people are suffering, Klaus. They've got nothing left because vampires took everything from them. And now you want them to give _their lives_ so you can make friends with a bunch of people who clearly hate your guts and tried to rip you to shreds not long ago?"

"I'm doing this for you," he speaks in a clipped tone.

Caroline feels something burst inside of her as the heat turns into anger. "Don't put this on me," she says, pointing an accusing finger at him. "I am not gonna be responsible for the murder of innocent people, people who _helped_ me when they had no reason to do it. It takes a monster to issue that kind of order and not feel even the smallest hint of regret and I am not that." A snarl flashes across Klaus' face, but if Caroline allows this argument to continue, she's afraid she might want to actually punch him in the face, so she points to the door and says, "I want to sleep now. Please."

He looks like he's going to say something for about two seconds, but then turns on his feet and stomps his way out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

How can he not freaking care? Those wolves _saved his daughter's life_.

Caroline's stomach tightens, her mind racing. She's gonna have to give the werewolves a heads up and stop this massacre.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"What the hell, Klaus?"

He lets out a weary sigh, putting down his brush and wiping his hands with a cloth. He takes a step back to admire his work. It's still missing a dash of white, he thinks.

"Language, love," he says absentmindedly to Caroline, whose burning eyes he can feel boring holes onto his back. "The baby is listening."

He smirks when she huffs out in annoyance.

She walks around, stopping next to his canvas, right in front of the window, blocking the perfect natural light he was making great use of. Klaus arches his eyebrows at her, just waiting for her to shoot what horrible deed he's being accused of this time.

"Why did your sentinels by the door just stop me from going outside?" she asks, folding her arms across her chest.

"Because I told them to," he replies matter-of-factly.

"Am I on house arrest now?"

"Not now. You've been on house arrest since the day you arrived here. You just hadn't tried to leave yet, I assume."

Caroline's face twists into a scowl. "You do realize I can take them down and leave anyway, right?"

"It's for your protection, Caroline. Don't be difficult."

"Oh my God! Stop doing awful things and saying you're doing them for me! You keeping me here as a prisoner is not for my protection, it's for your own goddamn ego. You control the city now. Marcel answers to you, so that witch girl in the tower can't do anything about me anymore. Why can't I leave?"

Klaus throws down his cloth, starting to get miffed. And he was having such a pleasant morning... "Have you forgotten what brought us here in the first place? The witches are still out to get Davina, and I bet they're dying to put their hands on you, too."

"I can defend myself, Klaus."

"You, against an entire coven? Forgive me if I don't want to take a risk."

"It's not your choice!"

"But it is my bloody decision!" he barks, his patience finally reaching its end. Everything with Caroline is a negotiation, an argument. He wishes she would, just for once, believe that he knows what he's doing. So far, going against his instincts to be _polite_ has brought them nothing but trouble. So he's doing things differently now. At least until it's safe.

Caroline doesn't even flinch at his near yell, though. Quite the opposite. She swells in anger, her blue eyes simmering with indignation, and she takes a step closer to him, making it impossible for him to avert her gaze.

"I always knew you were paranoid, but I could actually see some redeeming qualities in you before," she says, her voice low and grave. "But I was either crazy or completely blind, because you're someone else entirely now. I guess I really didn't know you then."

With that, she storms out, stomping all the way back to her room. He hears the door slamming, and knows he won't be seeing Caroline for a while.

He grabs the first thing he sees — the glass with water where he'd been keeping his brushes — and hurls it across the room. It smashes against the wall, shattering the glass into a hundred little pieces and scattering his brushes all around.

The bitter words sting. Klaus really has been losing his mind with unprecedented frequency ever since his return to New Orleans. He won't deny that the disposition towards blowing things out of proportion has been a close companion for many centuries now, but he's normally a lot more controlled than this. Now it's as though he's barely rational most of the time, always letting his temper take the best of him. Not that he's wrong, mind you; the situation is dire and Caroline is being extremely naive, to say the least, in thinking that the streets of New Orleans are safe for her just because Klaus has bested Marcel. She's way too accustomed to the juvenile arrangements of Mystic Falls to understand the nuance and complexity of the Crescent City's politics. This place is run by factions, not hormonal high school students, and Klaus will be damned if he'll let her get attacked when he's not looking again. She can hate him all she wants. He'd rather have her shooting daggers at him all day than getting hurt — or worse.

But what she said wouldn't hurt so much if there wasn't any truth in it. And yet, it just can't be helped. Every time he thinks about the dangers lurking, about the enemies just waiting for an opening to get to her, of what those witches would do to Caroline if they ever had a chance to ambush her again... It drives him insane.

New Orleans' penchant for vicious faction wars is nothing new to him. It wasn't that different back in his day. The difference now, he realizes, lies in what he has to lose. Two hundred years ago the worst that could happen was someone taking down Marcel in order to get to him. He was Klaus' weakest spot, and he was an old vampire himself, strong and well trained, not to mention extremely well versed in the ways of the city. The charm he used to run the city in his family's absence was already a weapon back then: people liked Marcel more than they ever liked him, even before. He had all of Klaus' knack for getting what he wants, without his terrible temper. The chances of anyone ever wanting to attack Marcel, and in doing so, succeeding, were slim to none. His siblings, of course, hardly needed protection. They had each other's backs, as always, but Rebekah and Elijah are nearly as strong as him. Other than that... Klaus didn't care about anything or anyone else to the point they could've been used against him. He had his favorites, of course. But that's all they ever were. Fun distraction.

Caroline, on the other hand...

He would do anything to keep her safe. And that's precisely what scares him so much. Not knowing how far he'd be willing to go, how much he'd be willing to compromise just to save her. And if anything happens to her... _Losing control_ won't even begin to describe it. He no longer has a humanity switch to turn on and off at will, but he's certain it would be as though he did.

In fact, Klaus wishes he had a switch right now, just so he'd stop caring so much. He's become the very thing he's always despised the most. Overwhelmed by feelings, completely taken by ideas that do nothing but curb his instincts, cloud his judgement — _make him weak_. He thought Elijah was the love fool in the family. Now look at him. Desperate for Caroline's approval. Hopelessly trying to please her. Placate her. Make her happy. Yet nothing he does ever seem right to her.

Can't she see he's just trying to protect her? That all he wants is for her and the baby to be safe?

A thought crosses his mind, one that only serves to dampen his mood further. Elijah would know what to do. He'd know exactly what to say. He'd understand why Caroline is so unhappy with him. His perfect brother always knows better. So sound, so noble. Everyone loves Elijah. Even the mother of his child.

Well, now his morning truly is ruined.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Caroline is plotting.

Klaus left about an hour ago to do God knows what. He looked aggravated, but she doesn't know if that's because something happened somewhere that he has to go and deal with, or if he was still moping after their little morning row. She hopes it's the latter. He fully deserved it.

There is one vampire keeping the back door and two guarding the front entrance to the compound, plus a couple of others roaming around. At least one seems to go wherever she goes, though he probably thinks he's being subtle. Klaus made sure to pick all the toughest looking vampires, apparently, because they're all huge dudes. What the hell is up with that, actually? Does he think if they're big she's less likely to try and stand up to them?

Although — truth be told, he probably wasn't thinking about _her_ when he chose his guards. He was thinking about the huge ass witches that attacked her in the Bayou. The last thing he expects is for Caroline to try and break through his live supernatural barrier.

Well, clearly he doesn't know what a hormonal witch is capable of.

Admittedly, she doesn't really want to have to knock them down to get past them. It's best if they don't know she's gone, this way they can't alert Klaus or send a whole troop chasing after her. But before she can outline a plan of action, she needs to know exactly what she's going to do.

She sent a couple of texts to Elijah, telling him she needs to speak to him, but he hasn't replied yet. Calling him is a no-no with all these freaky hearings surrounding her. They've probably been warned by Klaus to keep their eyes and _ears_ out. If they learn she wants to put an end to their Bayou hunting party, they'll certainly try to stop her. So she needs to be clever about this. Werewolf lives are at stake.

She's pacing around the courtyard, biting her nails and trying to come up with a plan when she hears someone talking to the vampires at the front door.

It's Cami.

What in freaking hell is she doing here?

Caroline had no idea Klaus was still seeing her. So she isn't allowed to go out, but clearly the douchebags were instructed to allow Cami in.

The prick of jealousy she gets only makes her all the more irritated.

"Hi," Cami says, a huge smile on her annoyingly pretty face when she sees Caroline. "I'm Camille, Klaus Mikaelson's stenographer? Do you know where I can find him?"

"Not here," Caroline replies dryly.

Cami blinks. "Oh? He's not home?"

"He left. Some urgent business somewhere," Caroline says, gesticulating vaguely. "I'm not sure when he's coming back." _Because he obviously never bothers telling me these things, even though he expects to know what I'm doing and who I'm with at all freaking times_ , she adds mentally.

Cami looks almost dejected. "Oh. Well. We had an appointment. Do you mind if I wait here for a bit, see if he shows up?"

Caroline shrugs. "Knock yourself out."

Caroline stares as Cami takes a seat on one of the garden chairs, and keeps staring after. Cami smiles awkwardly at her. What could Klaus still possibly want with her, now that Marcel is not an obstacle anymore? _You know exactly what he wants_ , a little voice in Caroline's mind says. What do guys ever want with girls as pretty as Cami? Klaus may be a thousand years old, but he's still a dude. And if there's one thing Caroline's learned in her years of running with the likes of him is that, deep down, they're all the same, just slightly more prone to violence than your ordinary douchebag - and sometimes not even that.

Maybe he got tired of the pregnant girl always inconveniently pointing fingers at him and decided to give it a shot with the one he can compel to forget in case things go sour.

"What's with all the security?" Cami asks, breaking Caroline out of her bitter thoughts.

She rolls her eyes and says, "Klaus," like that explains everything. It does, actually. She just doubts Cami gets it.

The other woman nods, making a silent 'oh' with her mouth. "I don't think we've met."

 _Yes, we did_ , she wants to say. But then she remembers Klaus compelled her to forget their previous encounter. "I'm Caroline."

"Caroline," Cami says, as though tasting the name on her tongue, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. "That name is so familiar. I can't pinpoint where I heard it before."

 _Of course_ Klaus is still compelling her to not remember anything as soon as he's out of her sight. What a jerk.

"It's a very common name here in the south," she says, making a mental note to research if there's a way to slip Cami some vervain so she can at least keep Klaus from further compelling her.

"Yes, that's true," she smiles again. "So you live here?"

"I suppose that's what you'd call it."

"Are you and Klaus...?"

"No. God, no," she shakes her head for emphasis. "We're not together. We're just... Responsible for this." Caroline points to her swollen belly.

The look on Cami's face is kind of priceless.

"Klaus is having a baby?" she asks, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

Caroline wishes she could snap a photo to show Klaus later.

"Technically, I'm the one having the baby, but yes. He's the father."

"Oh. Wow. I don't think he ever mentioned that. It seems like such an important thing for him to leave out."

_Oh, I'm sure he's babbled nonstop about it. You're probably lucky you can't remember._

"It does, doesn't it? That's Klaus for you. _Ouch_ ," Caroline whines, her face scrunching up in pain as she gets a twinge on her lower back.

Cami rushes to her side, all concern. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's nothing," she says, a hand on her back as she makes it to the bench. Cami takes her arm, helps her sit, even though it wasn't really necessary. Nothing quite like a pregnant woman in pain to bring out the kindness in strangers. "Thanks. It's just my back. It's been _killing_ me."

"Have you seen a doctor about it?"

Caroline pauses. "I've read a few books. It's perfectly normal at this stage, because of the growing weight. And it'll get worse, too."

"So you haven't seen a doctor?" Caroline blinks at her, feeling oddly like she’s being judged. "Ever?" Cami asks, a little too astounded to Caroline's taste. But she shakes her head anyway.

"I know what it sounds like, ok? I'm not some negligent mother or anything. I just... Haven’t had very good experiences with doctors. The one I saw early on in the pregnancy was... Well, let's just say it wasn't very stimulating. But I'm very well informed."

"I didn't mean to judge, sorry," Cami rushes to add. "It's just... It's so important. How far along are you?"

"Twenty two weeks."

"You _really_ should see one. Even if just for your back pains — it's normal, but there are things that can be done to lessen your discomfort."

"Are you a doctor?"

"No, but I used to hang out with a lot of them back in college. Actually." Cami starts rummaging through her purse for something, making an _a-ha_ sound when she finds a little card she hands over to Caroline. Dr. Lisa Preston, it says. "She's a good friend and a very good obgyn. I could schedule an appointment for you and Klaus."

Caroline lets out a huffed laugh. "Klaus. Good joke.”

“Is it?”

“Klaus is... Averse to technology,” she says by means of explanation. “He's all about the old days. The _really_ old days."

"I see," Cami nods. "Well, I could come with you if you like."

"Really? You would do that?"

"Sure. We can even go now. I'm sure she can fit us in. And Klaus is not here, anyway, so he can't complain about me missing our appointment."

Caroline snaps her mouth shut, memories of a horrible night in the deep Bayou suddenly flooding her mind. She trusted Agnes wanted nothing but to help her then, and look how that went. But Cami seems so genuine, so kind offering a helping hand to a pregnant woman with horrible back aches...

Klaus really likes her, she can tell. If he's still seeing her, there must be a reason. And if he likes her... Well, she can't be that bad, right? At least not a threat. Not to her and the baby, anyway. As annoying and patronizing as Klaus may be, Caroline does believe his good, however terribly misguided, intentions.

She bites on her lower lip, taking a quick glance at the two dumbasses at the door.

Well, screw caution. This will kill two birds with one stone.

"Ok," she says, getting up on her feet, scrunching up her nose as the pang shoots right through her again. "Just give me a minute."

"Of course."

Caroline pretends to be heading to one of the rooms on the first floor and when Cami turns around, she rushes to the door.

"Hey, assholes," she hisses, catching the attention of the two sentinels. With a flick of her wrist, their necks snap and they both drop to the ground. Caroline grabs them by the ankles and, making full use of her werewolf strength, drags both of them out of sight, only groaning lowly when her back screams at the strain.

Once they're well hidden, she wipes her hands on her jeans. "Camille! We're all set!"

"Great!" the girl says, joining her by the entrance. "Wait. Where are the guards?"

"Oh, I think they went to the bathroom."

"Together?"

"They're not very good guards. Never mind that. Let's just go before they come back to annoy us."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Elijah finds Caroline pacing anxiously around the alley on the back of a building at the French Quarter.

Everything about it rubs him the wrong way. The fact she seems to be nervous. The fact she seems to be hiding. The fact she is alone in the French Quarter. But what had Elijah most unsettled was her phone call.

They've kept in touch since her move to the compound with Klaus, but Caroline has been keeping communications brief and vague, which he's understood as her way of trying not to rattle his brother. The mere fact they've been speaking would be enough for him to throw a tantrum, for certain. She never gets into details about how things are, especially about Klaus. Elijah is not naive to think that a change in venues was all it took for his brother to suddenly develop a conscience and become a better all-around person and a more present father figure. But Caroline deliberately keeping things from him speaks of difficulties she's not willing to share for fear he or Rebekah might try to intervene.

Truth be told, Elijah's considered making surprise appearances several times, but Rebekah talked him out of it, claiming he'd only make Niklaus angrier. She's not wrong, Elijah just doesn't care all that much. What's kept him away so far were both Caroline's guarantees that she was well and the fact Niklaus is not his only sibling in need of some guidance. Rebekah's hardly at the top of her wits either.

When Elijah learned of what she did — joining forces with Marcel to try and take Klaus down — he finally understood why their brother snapped the way he did, deciding to cut all ties to the rest of the family. It wasn't just jealousy. He actually did have some genuine cause for distress in Rebekah's antics.

How could she be so daft in thinking that a bunch of recently turned, half-starved vampires could take down their hybrid brother? Klaus' werewolf gene meant he was always the strongest of them all, but since the curse was lifted he has become something else. Far more dangerous and completely unprecedented. Just because he doesn't go out advertising the extent of his powers, it doesn't mean he's bluffing. That Marcellus would underestimate him is understandable, even expected; Marcellus had always been too arrogant, in Elijah's opinion, holding himself with the confidence of an Original, and he hadn’t seen Klaus in almost a century. He didn’t know how corrupted and brutal he’d become ever since he left New Orleans, not to mention strong. But Rebekah? There are no excuses for what she did. Not for stupidly challenging Niklaus, and not for turning on her own blood either.

So Niklaus is not the most charitable or considerate sibling. No novelty there. He's done horrible things to his own family, subjected them to arbitrary punishments and never seems to hesitate before lashing out. And yet he's still oddly sensitive when the situation is reverse. The smallest thing is capable of upsetting him, hurting his feelings, which in turn makes him irate. Niklaus is terrible at handling his own emotions. It's nothing they haven't known for hundreds of years.

Does he deserve to get defied and held accountable for his actions, even forced to pay for some of the things he does so freely? Yes, of course. But is taking a page out of his own book the answer? Elijah doesn't think so. Not when he spends so much time trying to educate his brother and make him see the errors of his way.

Rebekah thinks he never learns his lesson; Elijah disagrees. He does learn, and he regrets and repents. He just has an awfully short memory. The only pain that registers is the one he feels himself; what he does to others just escapes his mind with inconvenient haste.

Still, if they ever want Niklaus to change, they can't just take him down and lock him up, especially when they should know better. No bars are ever gonna be enough to hold him for long. Even attempting to do so will only anger him further, push him away from their control.

Rebekah needed Elijah by her side to calm her nerves and help her find a way to forgive Niklaus for yet another wrongdoing. It's exhausting, but being the middle-man between their brother and sensibility has always been Elijah's self-appointed job. Rebekah is much easier. But his poor sister was in desperate need of familial attention. He enjoys spending time with her, to be honest. And he'd be lying if he said it hasn't been far simpler and quieter days away from Niklaus and the whole baby madness. But it does not mean he's less worried about Caroline's well-being.

However prone to bouts of insanity Niklaus may be, however, Elijah does think that if there's anyone who can keep his brother moderately level-headed is Caroline. She also has no qualms with berating him and calling him out on his misbehaviors. And, well, Niklaus will suck it up and let her do it, whereas if it was anyone else he'd just show his teeth and be done with it.

He spent most of the day helping Rebekah sort through some old family heirlooms before Klaus' moving man could take everything to their brother's new home. Their walk down memory lane kept both of them distracted. Elijah didn't see the texts and missed the first few calls from Caroline. So when he finally did pick up, it was quite obvious that something urgent was happening.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been calling you all day!" she grumbled into the phone.

"Forgive me, I wasn't paying attention to my phone. What is it?"

"I need you to come to the Quarter."

"Whatever for? Has Niklaus done something?"

"I'll tell you when you get here. But I don't have much time."

"Caroline–"

"Elijah, please. Just come and meet me here. It's important."

Well, that was all he needed to hear. Caroline hasn't pegged him as the overreacting type, and she'd kept quite civil even through the most trying situation. So if she says it's important, it must be.

Elijah thought she wanted to see him at the compound, but she texted him an address, said she'd wait for him at the back alley. Now, why would she be hiding like this? Unless she was trying to escape Niklaus himself...

Oh, what in hell's name has his brother done now?

"Caroline," he says, stepping into the alley.

She startles, turning to him with her hands out like she's ready to strike. "Jesus, Elijah. Do you always have to be so stealthy?"

"Apologies. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's ok, never mind," she says, gesticulating vaguely. "I don't have much time. I have a doctor appointment in five minutes."

"Doctor?" he says, concerned. "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just a routine checkup. That's not why I called."

"Does Niklaus know you're here?"

"Niklaus is not the lord and owner of my life," she says with a snap in her voice. "I called you here because your dear brother has seen fit to give the vampires free rein to go into the Bayou and slaughter every single werewolf they find."

"Why would he do that?"

"He says it's to placate their tempers or something. If there are no werewolves, they have no reason to fear the apocalyptic premonitions about the baby, which makes absolutely no freaking sense because if he really wants hybrids, he'll find the damn wolves. But those werewolves saved my life. I can't just let the vampires kill the lot of them for sport."

Oh, Niklaus... Always finding new, scandalous ways to incense those closest to him.

Elijah sighs. "What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know, something. Go to the Bayou and warn them, fend off the vampires if you can. I would do it myself, but I'm afraid it would only make things worse with your brother. He might decide to finish the wolves with his own two hands just out of spite. Please, Elijah, I wouldn't ask this of you if it wasn't important."

Elijah has no love for werewolves, never did, never will. But when he hears the edges of despair in Caroline's voice and sees the pleading look on her face, how genuinely afflicted she is... He just doesn't have it in him to tell her that he's still a vampire, and it's in his very nature not to get along with the wolves.

"I'll see what I can do," he says instead, making no promises. The hatred those werewolves have for his kind... They might as well jump him the second he sets foot in their territory.

Caroline breathes out in relief. "Thank you."

"How are you, Caroline?"

She pauses, looking away from him and distracting herself with pulling a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm... ok. Kind of excited for my appointment at the moment." A smile finally breaks onto her lips as she meets his gaze again. "I'm about to see my baby for the first time."

Elijah can't help the tiny grin curling his own lips. She looked tormented a second before, and now, just mentioning her baby, she's... radiant. It's infectious, almost. How can Niklaus not be here for this?

"I have to go," she continues. "The doctor fit me in last minute, she won't be happy if I'm late. Let me know how it goes, okay?"

"No problem."

He watches as she walks around the building and goes back inside. The last time she went to one of those appointments, she ended up almost killed by rabid witches — and saved by the werewolves his brother has ordered murdered now. It makes Elijah slightly uncomfortable, but nothing looks out of place here. There are other pregnant women inside, he can hear them talking. It seems authentic, at least, not the sight of an ambush.

He sticks around for a little while longer, trying to spot any of Niklaus' newly acquired lackeys, or even the man himself, but if he's noticed Caroline's gone, he hasn't found her yet, and neither have his minions. She should be safe for the time being.

Rebekah will be outraged when he goes back home to pick her up, but he'll need reinforcements if they are to save those wolves from annihilation. His sister better have some comfortable shoes to wear.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"Wow, these wolves really travel in style, don't they?"

Rebekah sighs wearily as Elijah hops onto a motorhome parked in the middle of the Bayou. It's the fourth werewolf camp they've found today — and, like the three before, it's completely deserted. She would've liked to go home hours ago, but her brother is restless.

They came across their first camp as it was being thrashed by a mob led by Marcel's loose-lipped friend, Diego. They were yet to come across any wolves, but apparently found it just as entertaining to destroy the little those people had. Pathetic.

Elijah gave them a clear warning that they were not to harm any wolves and, should he see them again in the Bayou, their heads would be put on spikes to decorate the encampment they'd just destroyed. But Elijah knew, as well as Rebekah, that they were not going to give up. Nik gave them permission, of course they now feel entitled to their hunt. Their brother fancies himself as the new king of New Orleans and those poor bastards are only too eager to follow his lead. Nik really did leave a mark on them after kicking their sorry arses.

"Can we go now?" she asked Elijah. "They've been warned. If any werewolves die, we can just find the vampires and kill them."

"They're still out there, Rebekah."

"Yes, and some of them are trapped in wolf form, which means those poor sods would do well to stay away, if they know what's good for them."

"Niklaus would heal them."

Rebekah scoffed. "Right. Our egotistical brother, feeding the scum with his precious blood? Not likely."

Elijah was nearly convinced to leave when they finally found their first actual werewolf. A woman named Eve.

"Caroline sent you here, didn't she? To protect us," she said, like she and Caroline were old pals. "We thank you for your disposition, but we're fine."

"What about this looks fine to you?" Rebekah asked, pointing towards the torn down encampment. Tents had been ripped apart. Personal objects scattered about. Food made completely useless.

"That's just things," Eve said with a smile that was way too gentle for Rebekah's taste. She had kind eyes and a soft voice that made Rebekah think of Matt Donovan, for some reason. Someone with a genuinely good heart. The type that is hard to come across around these areas. Eve looked like she was maybe in her early thirties, and Rebekah could tell she was a werewolf, but only faintly, which meant she hadn't triggered her curse yet. Not many wolves manage to get to that age without snapping and killing someone. They have beastly terrible tempers, like their very natures work to get them to activate the curse. For Eve to have made it... She must be a saint. "We're fine," she continued. "All of us. We know the Bayou like the back of our hands. We only get found if we want to."

"Well, we found you, so," Rebekah said.

Eve just smiled. "Like I said." She pulled a map from inside the shabby cape she was wearing. "I have something to show you."

"Are you the only one of them who's not in wolf form?" Elijah asked.

"No, there are others. Mainly the younger ones, who hadn't triggered the wolf gene yet when Marcel cursed us, and some who came from other parts of the state, later on."

"Then how come we haven't met any of you?"

"Like I said, we don't wanna be found. Especially not by vampires. No offense."

"Offense taken," Rebekah quipped "What is it that you want to show us?"

Eve opened the map and pointed to three other areas around the Bayou. "There are wolves camping out in these areas, and they're not from here. Some belong to our lines, but some are from completely different packs."

"What are they doing here?"

"They've all heard about the baby."

"Are you kidding me?" Rebekah asked with a snap in her voice. "Now werewolves are coming after the baby as well?"

"They're not _after_ the baby. They want to see it. To see Caroline. Her baby is important to us."

"Why?" Elijah demanded.

"Because it's part of our pack. A branch we thought had been lost to us forever. So everyone wants to see it. They're coming from all over the place, not just Louisiana. And they'll keep coming. But they don't know the Bayou and we can't help them if we have to protect ourselves. But you can."

"You want us to go on a tour of the Bayou to save your distant cousins?" Rebekah asked.

"You're the ones who came here saying that you wanted to help. If that's really what you wanna do, this is how. And trust me... I think you'll want them alive."

There was no dissuading Elijah after that.

They marched through the bog for hours, and by the time they reached the other encampments, the werewolves were already gone. There were no signs of struggle or bodies lying around either, so the vampires hadn't found them, which Rebekah guesses is a good thing, but doesn't exactly make her feel any better about the appalling state of her boots or the perfect day she wasted chasing ghosts that clearly don't want to be found and are way better than them at hide and seek.

Elijah pops his head out of the motorhome and arches his eyebrows at her. "Empty."

"Wow. That's a surprise," she replies, her voice devoid of any humor.

"Shall we proceed, then?" Elijah steps out of the car, shutting the door behind him like the gentleman that he is.

"Here's an idea. Let's not, and tell Caroline that we did. Then you get to impress the girl and I can go home," she pleads with a saccharine smile. "You know how hovel depresses me and that's all we've seen all day. Well, that and the bog."

"I'm not trying to impress the girl."

"I should bloody hope you are. Why else are we out here?"

Elijah looks away from her, trying to keep the silly smile from creeping onto his face, but he's always been a lousy liar, her big brother. The way his eyes lit up just now — it's actually not very different from what Nik looked like back in Mystic Falls whenever someone mentioned Caroline near him. It was the easiest way to get him out of the house. Rebekah even got him to dress up and attend her school dance just because she said the blonde witch would be there. Elijah and Nik look more alike than they probably realize.

"Come on, Elijah", she presses. "You've fallen for her. Admit it. May do wonders for the stick that's lodged up your enduringly stoic ass if you did."

He grins almost sheepishly, fixing the collar of his jacket. "If I admit to you that it's complicated, would that suffice, or are you determined to torment me throughout this endeavor?"

"Well, I don't know. Would you rather I torment you now or Nik torments you later?"

At the mention of their brother, the handsome smile completely vanishes from her brother's face. "You can't tell Niklaus about this, Rebekah."

"Like I have to. Why do you think he's taken Caroline to a crystal tower in the middle of the city, guarded by vampires on all sides?"

"Still. We don't mention any of this to him. Ever."

"So you're just not gonna do anything about it?"

"What would you have me do?"

"I don't know. Talk to her."

"Caroline's carrying our brother's child, Rebekah, or have you forgotten?"

"So what? Just because she slept with Nik once, doesn't mean they're married. This is the 21st century, Elijah. Families have more alternative outlines now."

"Not this family. Caroline cares for Niklaus and I do not intend to get in the way of that."

"Even if you _know_ it's not the best thing for her?"

"I don't know that."

"Well, I do. There isn't a world where being with Nik is better for anyone than being with you. Just look at us now. You came all the way here to save werewolves you don't even know because Nik has ordered them killed when he _knows_ they're important to the girl he allegedly cares about. Maybe it's time for us to admit that... There's nothing we can do for Nik anymore. He's too far gone."

"Rebekah–“

What would certainly be a lecture from Elijah on how Niklaus' immortal soul depends on Caroline's golden locks to survive is interrupted by screams. They turn to find a man and a woman running from the vampires. They don't stand a chance, obviously, and are quickly surrounded. Diego sinks his teeth into the man's neck, and he lets out a terrible yelp.

In a blink, Elijah's on them, grabbing Diego by his hair and pulling him away from the guy, who falls to the ground clutching the puncture wounds in his neck. Rebekah has to say that the scent of fresh blood sends a wave across her body. They've been out here for way too long. She could sure use a snack.

"Darling," Elijah says to Diego. "We have to stop meeting like this."

He pushes Diego away, and the boy looks at them with murder in his eyes as he joins the rest of the riffraffs. She really needs to have a word with Marcel about the men he entrusts with commanding his army. This is shameful.

"You can go now," Elijah tells them, a smirk on his face. Rebekah snorts. Maybe Caroline isn't the whole reason her brother was so keen to come out here after all. He's having fun tormenting the vampires — which, in turn, means tormenting Niklaus.

Diego curses under his breath, but none of them move.

"Perhaps I'm not making myself clear here," Elijah speaks. "This is a threat. In precisely three minutes time, your little hunting party will become the prey. Now, based on your recent failure to subdue my _baby_ brother, this despite a better than 100 to 1 advantage, I recommend you heed my warning."

Diego glances at Rebekah, who cocks an eyebrow at him. Finally deciding that a couple of werewolves is not worth risking his life for, he spits on the floor and turns around, followed by the rest of his group.

"Impressive," she tells Elijah. "I liked the part about the baby brother."

Elijah smiles all proud of himself. "Well, I thought the situation demanded something a little dramatic."

They turn to the man, still whimpering on the floor. Werewolf, for sure.

When he catches them looking, he quickly jumps to his feet, taking a few safe steps away, a terrified expression on his face.

"Who are you people?" he asks.

"Your fairy godmothers. This is your lucky day."

She glances at Elijah, expecting to find an amused smirk on his face, but what she sees is a deep frown.

He takes a step closer to the man, who flinches but doesn't try to run. And then Rebekah realizes Elijah's got his eyes fixed on a necklace the man has around his neck. More precisely on the pendant hanging on it.

Elijah takes it in his hands, lifting it close to his face, and Rebekah is able to get a better look at it. The second she does, her entire body goes cold.

It's not a pendant, it's a ring. And one both her and Elijah have seen before, many, _many_ years ago.

On their mother's finger.

"I would say the better question," Elijah says, looking up at the werewolf. "is who are you?"

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Klaus hears the car approaching. Voices talking excitedly. Laughter.

Apparently his siblings had a fantastic day out in the Bayou defying his express orders and tormenting his vampires.

"I stink of the bog," Rebekah is saying as they finally make it inside. She's not lying.

"Serves you right for your pathetic attempt to undermine my rule," he says from the piano, watching as the two swivel around towards him.

He was getting tired of waiting. As soon as he got Diego's angry call, he headed out to the plantation, even though he still has business to sort out with Marcel. His day has been nothing short of complicated and he was not in a good mood to start. The news of Rebekah and Elijah's little stroll across the countryside left him fuming.

Is there anyone in this world who isn't out to get him? It's like the entire bloody universe has come together to make him lose him sodden mind, as if he’s not halfway there already.

"Nik, listen–“

"When I order werewolves to be hunted to extinction," he starts, cutting off what was surely to be one of Rebekah's deplorable excuses. "I expect you to stand aside and let the blood flow."

"How delightfully democratic of you," Elijah says, a shadow crossing his brother's eyes. He puts his hand inside his jacket and then throws something at him. A ring, old and worn-off; what was probably once some intricate carvings now mostly faded. "Do you recognize it?" Elijah questions. "Perhaps you don't. It has been a thousand years since you last saw it grace the hand of our mother." Klaus frowns at him, looking down at the object again. Now that he's mentioned it... It's true. He remembers it. Esther didn't have much jewelry, no one did back then. But he does remember the ring she used to carry around wherever she went. "It was in possession of one of the very wolves whose extinction you just ordered." Klaus' eyes snap back up at his brother. "So naturally, I questioned him. He spoke of a legend wherein long ago, a chief of theirs had fathered a child to a very powerful witch. The mythology further states this child, a son, was later transformed into something this clan had never before seen. Something werewolf and vampire."

Klaus' heart skips a beat, then another. If what Elijah is saying is true... If this is indeed their mother's ring... Then the werewolves in the Bayou are distant descendants of his father's pack. His real father. They may even be related.

"Nik, we're trying to make amends," Rebekah speaks, approaching him. "We found remnants of your family, the bloodline of your true father," she says in a hopeful tune. "That means Caroline was right about them. They were protecting your child because your daughter is part of their pack. And we saved them of being slaughtered at the hands of the vampires _you_ command."

"Niklaus, your personal ambitions have come before this family for far too long," Elijah says, an earnest glint in his gaze. "I beseech you, brother. Please, come home."

Klaus looks down at the ring again, evidence of something he thought long lost to him. He feels a twinge in his chest. Caroline asked him not to issue the attack and he ignored her, thinking that the easiest way to keep her safe would be to win the vampires' trust. And all the while, the werewolves had been safe-guarding her because of something much more powerful than politics.

Family.

He lifts his gaze back to his two expectant siblings. The one who thinks he's out to hurt his own child. And the one who would've staked him herself if she thought it would've ended him.

Suddenly, he wishes so badly that he could trust them again. But alas, his heart still stings with their betrayal.

"What home? This pathetic substitute?" he asks, motioning his hand towards the room. "You see, despite all your doubts, all your attempts to thwart me, I've reclaimed our true home. I took back the entire city."

"You have the audacity to boast of your victory when the mother of your child remains a prisoner?"

Klaus' insides twist with anger, his eyes narrowing dangerously at Elijah. "It all comes down to Caroline, doesn't it, brother?"

"Stop it, both of you," Rebekah says, stepping in.

"Even if this is what you say it is," he continues, putting the ring on top of the piano and standing to his feet. "I've had enough of family to last me a lifetime. Why could I possibly want more?"

Even though that ring is calling to him, begging to be taken and inspected and investigated, Klaus leaves it behind and stalks out of the house, ignoring the disappointment he can feel radiating off of his siblings.

Family has brought him nothing but misery for a thousand years. Maybe it's time he leaves it behind for good.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Caroline arrives at the compound with aching feet and a happy tummy.

She felt on cloud nine after leaving the doctor's office, despite the nagging concern for what may or may not have been happening in the Bayou. She'd done what she could about that, all there was left to do was hope that Elijah would keep his word. She left it in the hands of fate and focused her attention on what was actually within her reach, like her appointment.

Seeing her baby for the first time made her heart swell, become so impossibly huge it's a mystery it didn't explode out of her chest. Her little girl, all perfect and healthy, totally oblivious to the horrors she's already escaped in her short life.

It was the injection of good Caroline needed to renew her spirits.

The conversation with the doctor was long. She had a million questions after all the books and the mommy blogs she read online, and Dr. Lisa answered everything with the patience of a monk. It was a good thing it was a slow day and she didn't have that many patients waiting. She wrote down prescriptions for a few vitamins and other things, taught Caroline a few exercises to help alleviate her back pains, inquired about her routine, diet, about why she hadn't been to see a doctor yet. It got a little embarrassing when she asked about the father. "Uhm... Yeah, he's present. We just... have different opinions on a lot of things regarding the baby."

Lisa said she'd like to do more tests and see Caroline again in a few weeks just to make sure everything was in order, but, at first sight at least, she was _blessed with a great pregnancy_.

Caroline laughed. It was ironic, to say the least.

When she finally left the office, Cami was still there, waiting for her.

"Oh my God, Camille. I'm so sorry. I got carried away inside, totally forgot that you were here. You shouldn't have waited."

"I don't mind. I had nothing better to do, and I was curious. How was it?"

"Great. The doctor -"

"Wait. Tell you what. Why don't we go grab some beignets and you can tell me everything?"

Caroline hesitated for a second. She was playing with fire just by being there at all. But if Klaus knew she was gone, he would've bombarded her with phone calls already. The fact he hadn't meant the vampires probably felt too embarrassed to alert him, and he was otherwise busy playing king.

"Sounds awesome!"

She spent the rest of the afternoon having the most delicious beignets she ever tasted at a tiny little corner café, which Cami claimed had better beignets than the famous Café du Monde — "Their beignet is great, but it's a tourist trap. So much more expensive and they start giving you the eye when you take too long to leave".

They talked about her appointment, about the pregnancy in general, about Cami's master’s degree, her work at Rousseau's and, well, Klaus. It couldn't be helped.

The stroll around the city was fantastic, but it left her feet sore and her lower back screaming. All worth it, though. It was the finest, lightest day she'd had in a very long time. Caroline didn't think about werewolves or witches or assassination attempts. She finally got to see the city and feel like a normal person for a change.

She’d forgotten that she wasn’t even supposed to leave the compound and that she'd likely find herself in a lot of trouble until she walks in and hears Klaus' voice.

Caroline sucks the air in and glues herself to the wall, hiding while she tries to get a sense of what exactly awaits her, just to be prepared.

But, surprisingly enough, he doesn't sound like he's mad at all.

"To a united front," he's saying. "This act of yours, the imitation of friendship... Don't get me wrong, you played the part well enough. I should know, having played it myself, but there was a time when the affinity between us was quite real."

Caroline's eyebrows snap together at the nearly tender tune to his voice. She leans forward a little, straining to take a peek at whoever he's talking to.

"Sure, and then you got it in your head to take what I created," comes Marcel's voice.

It's bit of a shock. She hadn't heard Klaus talk in this manner about Marcel yet. For the first time, she's getting a real feeling of the deep bonds Elijah spoke of.

"When I picked up that coin I swore loyalty, Klaus, not friendship. And I'm holding up my end. The other one has to be earned."

"Fair enough. Then you should probably know the whole story. My decision was not entirely my own. If I didn't agree to usurp your power, the witches swore to kill my unborn child. And her mother along with it," Klaus says, sounding apologetic.

Caroline swallows, her heart rate picking up a bit. As curious as she is to hear more, to see this other side of Klaus, the one that apparently still has some genuine feelings for Marcel, not to mention the part that concerns her, she is starting to think she shouldn't. This is straight-out intruding a personal moment. Just because Klaus won't talk to her, it doesn't mean she should go eavesdropping on every conversation he has with other people. Well. Not _all_ the time, anyway.

"At first the promise of an offspring meant little to me," he continues, and Caroline's attention is piqued once more. "But I couldn't let them hurt Caroline. Who should probably try to breathe quietly if she wants to sneak around listening to other people's conversations."

_Damn it._

She scrunches her eyes shut for a moment, waiting for the burning on her cheeks to subside before she comes out of hiding.

When she does, she finds Klaus looking at her with a presumptuous smirk on his face, next to Marcel, who seems very surprised.

"Good evening, gentlemen," she says, trying to act as nonplussed as possible.

"Would you care to enlighten me of your whereabouts tonight, love?"

"Actually, I would." She smiles sweetly at him. His eyes flash, but the smirk doesn't drop from his lips.

"And you wouldn't happen to know why two of my men woke up with terrible headaches, would you?"

"Oh. That would be because I snapped their necks and dumped their bodies out of sight. I might not have been very gentle while I was dragging them."

"Ah," he arches his eyebrows at her. "That's lovely. And here I was thinking I'd been clear that you were not supposed to leave."

"Funny you should say that, because I thought I'd been clear that I don't care."

"All right, I'm outta here," Marcel says, lifting his hands in the air as though in surrender. "Clearly you two have some things to work out. Caroline."

"Welcome back to the family, Marcel. Looks like you missed nothing."

Marcel snorts in amusement. As soon as they're left on their own, Klaus comes closer. And then Caroline realizes he looks... Awful.

His clothes are all ripped off and bloodied. There are red stains all over his neck. Clearly he's had a much worse day than she did.

"What happened?" she asks, real concern written on the lines on her forehead.

"Nothing that should concern you," he says, simply. "Do you want to tell me where you've been?"

"Does it matter? I went out, nobody tried to jump me. Still in one piece, see?" she stretches out her arms, letting them fall beside her body.

"Were you with Elijah, by any chance?"

She senses the trick in his question, the deceptiveness of his calm. If he's asking her that, it means he probably knows what Elijah was up to today. And he's likely traced it back to her. That's an argument they'll need to have. But she's not looking forward to it, at least not until she can speak to Elijah and learn how it went.

"No. I was with Camille, if you must know."

Klaus narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Camille?"

"Yes. She stopped by and you weren't here for your _appointment_. Seriously? Still doing that to her?"

"She's my stenographer."

"Oh, please. Cut the crap, Klaus. If you like her, then just ask her out, for God's sake. Buy her a drink, take her out to dinner. She's actually really nice _and_ she knows a great café."

He frowns, wearing a slightly puzzled expression. "Are you telling me to ask Camille out on a date?"

"I'm telling you to stop compelling her to hang out with you. That's level A douchebag attitude and no girl would ever fall for a guy who does that to them."

Caroline doesn't wait to hear his explanation, if he even has one to offer, anyway. Her back is killing her, she needs to lie down for a moment. So she just flies up the stairs and goes straight to her room.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Klaus is left speechless for a good minute after Caroline leaves.

What the bloody hell was that?

He shakes his head, trying to clear his mind, and goes to fetch himself a drink. After the day he's had, he could use a couple of bottles to usher him to sleep. If he can even manage to put his head down tonight, that is. Lately, he's had more sleepless nights than the opposite. It's not exactly something he needs in order to function, but the effects are starting to show. His muscles feel tight, his head is foggier and his mood swings have become more frequent —although that last part has more to do with the swarm of incompetents surrounding him than with his insomnia.

Every time he tries to shut his eyes, his head is immediately flooded with a myriad of disasters that could happen right under his roof while he sleeps. The first night they moved into the compound, Klaus put a chair in the room next to Caroline's and barely even blinked while she slept, listening to her heart beating and the sound of her sheets rustling as she tossed and turned. She didn’t have a good night either, he could tell.

Did she really just tell him she became friends with Camille?

Klaus knocks back the rest of his drink and follows her to the second floor.

He finds her rubbing the plant of her foot, a bunch of pillows thrown haphazardly behind her back as she sits against the headboard of her bed, her eyes closed and a pained expression on her face.

"Are you all right?"

She sighs, slowly opening her eyes to peer at him as though she were already expecting him to follow at some point.

"I'm not the one who looks like I just stepped out of a war zone. Are _you_ all right?" she turns the question around, her eyes following the blood stains on his shirt.

"I was in a bit of a kerfuffle."

"Looks more like at the end of a firing squad." She pauses. "Did you get hurt?"

"Barely. It's mostly not my blood."

"Did anyone die?"

Klaus hesitates.

He's not deliberately trying to keep these things a secret from her, he just... Doesn't really think she'd be very understanding. Some might think his methods a tad unorthodox, but they're highly effective, and certain extreme situations demand extreme measures. He prefers to avoid the judgement, if he can. Not to mention, it would only annoy her further. She finds enough reasons to berate him as it is.

Right now, however, being dismissive or straight out lying to her would probably only make her more suspicious, angrier. Not sharing will vex her far more than any well-intentioned omission.

He should've changed his clothes as soon as he got home.

"Yes," he replies, finally. "Some of the nightwalkers. There was an attack to the place where they go to hide during the day. They blew up the shutters. They burned."

Caroline's brow furrows, her mouth drawing into a displeased move. "God. Who did that?"

"The humans."

"Humans?" she parrots, surprised. "Why would they do that?"

He shrugs. "They thought I'd be as accommodating to their corrupt ways as Marcel was for the past so many decades, and when they realized their mistake, they tried to demonstrate their power. I guess they didn't know who they were dealing with. I took care of rectifying that by making the appropriate introductions."

"Should I be worried?"

"Why would that worry you?"

"Are they gonna come for me as well? Should I add _humans_ to my list of potential enemies? It keeps growing by the day."

"They won't come for you. The new man in charge of the human faction is trustworthy. I believe he will do the right thing by his community, unlike his predecessors."

"Wow. For you to say someone is trustworthy, the guy must be a saint."

"Almost. He's a priest."

Caroline snorts, amused. "Are you serious? Did you threaten a man of God into taking that job and bowing down to you?"

"Well, when you put it like that..."

Caroline throws her head back, laughing. Something fragile inside Klaus' chest thrums with the sound.

"I don't even know why I find that so absurd," she says, in-between chuckles.

"Enough talking about me. Now," he prods, cocking his eyebrows to indicate it's her turn to speak.

"My day was not as thrilling as yours," she says, rolling her eyes. "I had a doctor's appointment, that was it."

"Doctor?" Klaus blinks, suddenly all serious as he approaches her bed with purposeful steps. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I don't know if you're aware of this, but in the 21st century pregnant women make regular visits to the doctor. It's routine."

"Why was Camille with you?"

"Because she suggested it when I complained about some back pains — which is fine, by the way, it's perfectly normal," she adds, raising her voice slightly to stop him as he opens his mouth to start issuing more concern. "The doctor was a friend of hers, she made us a favor by fitting me in last minute. But don't go getting mad at Cami. I'm sure she wouldn't have said anything if she could remember your _conversations_."

After a spell of silence, Klaus asks, "Did you mean what you said downstairs?"

"What part?"

"That you think I should pursue a romantic relationship with Camille."

Caroline gives him a hard look. "What do you think?"

"I don't know what to think, Caroline."

"Well, neither do I. You say you're not interested in her like that, that she's a spy, but she hasn't been with Marcel for a while now, and you still see her. What am I supposed to think? All I know is that she's actually really nice. I wish she was a bitch, because that way I could just be mean to her, but she's not. She's funny and thoughtful and really smart, and what you're doing to her is not cool. You're messing with her head. She has all these blank spaces in her mind, hours and hours of her day that are a complete mystery. She really thinks she's going crazy, Klaus. So no, I don't want you to ask her out, but if you are into her, than just be honest about it and stop acting like a jerk to a nice girl. And stop lying to me, too. I deserve to know."

"I assure you I have no interest in Camille that way, Caroline. I just... Appreciate the company. She's a good listener. Even if her advice is at times unasked for."

"So you compel her to _listen_ to you? That's it? You just want someone to talk to?"

He smiles wanly. "Camille's professional assessment is that I'm a lonely man with trust issues who wishes to be understood. The architect of my own unhappiness, I believe were her words."

Caroline is quiet for a long moment, her eyes dark and considering as she watches him. "What am I to you, Klaus?"

"I don't understand what you mean."

"It's a simple question. Am I anything to you other than the mother of your child?"

For long, agonizing seconds, Klaus' mind goes completely blank as he stares into Caroline's piercing blue eyes. His thoughts are scattered. His mouth opens and closes several times as successive answers rise to his lips, only to fall immediately after.

Caroline thinks it's a simple question, but her assessment couldn't be further away from the truth. What is she to him? There's so much packed into those five little words. Klaus has never thought of things that way. He's never tried to shape his complicated, abstract feelings into something concrete, definite. It's always remained unnamed.

She’s been so many things over the years. His initial assessment of Caroline was as clichéd as it goes; pretty, but dull. The only thing he remembers clearly from their first encounter is the sound of her screams as he snapped Tyler's neck. It had been music to his ears then. Now he cannot fathom a more horrifying sound. His interest was sparked when he realized he could use her to spite Tyler, punish him for his insubordination.

She was so brave when he showed up to heal her after Tyler's attack. She was dying, bleeding out fast. "Are you here to kill me?" she asked, but she wasn't afraid. Caroline looked him right in the eye, didn't even flinch. There was a spark in her eyes as she said, "I don't want to die." It wasn't a plea, it was a simply stated fact. He felt genuinely sorry for having ordered Tyler to bite her. The birthday gift he left for her in the middle of the night was meant as an apology, though he doubts she understood it. None of that stopped her from hating him, of course. Regardless of how polite or thoughtful he tried to be, she always shut him down with spite, twisting the blade in whenever the opportunity arose. Caroline's alluring exterior hides a strong personality, and she can be vicious when she wants to. Klaus doesn't necessarily see that as a bad thing, except when she turns her thorns to him.

He branded her as difficult and not worthwhile, utterly unapproachable, and vowed to never attempt anything ever again. But all it took for him to change his mind were two agreeable words from her. At some point, he isn't sure when, Klaus came to the realization that Caroline was dangerous. Not because she posed a threat herself, but because there was absolutely nothing he wouldn't do for her. Anything she wanted was hers, anything she asked, he would do it. She was a vulnerability made flesh, and one he couldn't put down with a dagger and keep locked away in a box.

He knows he became many things to her as well. A disruption. A skewed moral compass. A source of comfort, even. But he does not know what to be now. Does not now know _how_ to be what she needs.

He can see the disappointment in her eyes at his failure to produce an answer. She looks away from him, down at her own lap. It feels like a punch to his face.

"Back in Mystic Falls, I thought we had... Something," she says. "A connection. I don't know. It drove me crazy at first, to feel like you understood me better than everyone else. Despite the fact that we were obviously completely different, it seemed like we had this... Bond. Like people sometimes do, I guess. But ever since I got here..." She lifts her face, her gaze filled with an exhausted kind of frustration. "I don't feel that connection anymore. I mean, there are moments... But it never lasts. Most of the time, I barely know you at all, Klaus. I don't know if I was misreading the signals before or–“

"You weren't," he rushes to retort.

"Then what happened? I know this kind of changed the stakes," she points to her swollen stomach. "But you were the only person who would actually always listen to me before, and now I feel like I'm screaming at the walls. You treat me like all I am is a baby who's not even born yet."

"That's not true, I don't see you that way."

"But it's what it feels like to me. You keep me at bay, Klaus. To the point I didn't even want to tell I'd like to see a doctor. I told this to Elijah once and I will tell you, too. I'm not some ornamental thing for you to keep in your house like one of your paintings. I'm a person. A mother-to-be is not everything I am. Even if I mean nothing to you anymore, you have to remember that. You owe me at least this much."

"Caroline, you are..." _Beautiful. Bright. Strong. Full of life and fire. The most fascinating, compelling person I've met in a very long time and the very reason behind everything I do these days._ "More. So much more. That's the whole problem, in fact."

"That I'm more?"

"I can't risk losing you. I can't fathom the idea, won't even entertain the thought. And I know that you're strong, and brilliant, and you can take care of yourself, of my — _our_ child. But I simply cannot risk it. If anything were to ever happen to you–"

"There you go again. I'm not a passive bystander, Klaus."

"That's not what I mean. I have too many enemies, and the things that brought me, that brought _us_ , to this city are still out there, biding their time, waiting for a chance to charge at us. With witches having premonitions about the baby all over the country, perhaps even the whole world, who's to say more outsiders won't come, seeking to end our child's life, and yours along with it? Even Tyler Lockwood attempted to have you murdered. I knew revenge ate at him, but I never thought he'd do anything to harm you."

Caroline's gaze flickers from his eyes, away, then back again. The memory of Tyler's attack seems to sadden her still. "I never thought he would either."

"So you see? Call it paranoia if you like, but I have never wanted to protect anything as much as... You."

"Then talk to me. I'm right here. All this time, all I've wanted was for you to come to me. To at least try to be friends. But for every step forward, you take ten back right after. Tell me how you feel, Klaus. What you're thinking. Why you do the things that you do. And maybe we can discuss and decide things together, instead of you acting like a tyrant with power of attorney over my entire life. And if the only reason you're keeping Cami around really is so that you'll have someone to listen to your side of the story, then don't use her. Use me."

Klaus lets out a sharp breath that is the ghost of a laugh. "You have no idea how hard that is," he says dismally.

Talking to Camille and talking to Caroline — or to Elijah, or Rebekah, or even Marcel, for that matter — isn't the same. How could it be? Camille is easy. She doesn't know him. The only bits of his story she's aware of are the parts he's shared with her himself. His side of history. And still she finds cause for criticism, remarking on all the flaws in his logic, which he'll concede are many. If he gets particularly annoyed by something she says, he just compels her to forget and sends her on her way. She only keeps the parts he allows her to keep, even in his presence. And acid though Camille might get on her commentary, Klaus doesn't care what she thinks. Not really. It's nice to be understood, but it's not a necessity when it comes to Camille. Whether she'll like him more or less for the stories he shares with her, it's not important. Not the point of their sessions, either. Whereas Caroline...

She cannot be compelled. Moreover, Klaus wouldn't want to compel her. He's always admired her honesty, a trait, in fact, which she shares with Camille — perhaps that's why he's kept the bartender around, after all. Why would he ever want to erase something that's always been a cornerstone of their relationship? When he won Caroline's affections, it was by being true to her. For better or for worse, he never lied. Still doesn't. He just... Has been toeing the fine line between lie and omission, trying to preserve whatever's left of their fragile connection.

What she thinks, how she sees him, matters. Her accusations and judgment strike him in ways Camille's never could.

"It's not the same, speaking with you and with Camille."

"Do you trust her more than you trust me?"

"Of course not."

"Then you have to at least try, Klaus. Otherwise... What are we even doing here? I'll just go back to Mystic Falls and we'll split the holidays and you can visit on the weekends."

Unable to give the answer he knows Caroline wants from him, Klaus turns his face away from her unyielding stare, fixing his gaze on the windows, cringing inwardly at his own inadequacy.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Klaus goes silent, something Caroline knows it's hardly ever a good sign. She saw a little light at the end of the tunnel, like Klaus was finally going to open up to her and be honest about... Well, _something_. But then a shield slid down in his eyes and the window was closed.

She feels the bite of frustration tear at her again.

She wants to hold his head and physically shake him, yell at his face and see if it'll bring some clarity to that warped and confused mind of his. If this is how every interaction with Klaus is going to be like every time they have a problem to sort through or a decision to make regarding the baby, then may the Lord have her soul, because she's not going to take it.

She chews on her lip thoughtfully, and then, making a decision, stands up and goes to where she dropped her purse. She fishes out the little piece of paper she brought from her appointment, handing it over to Klaus, who looks at her with his eyebrows knit together.

"What is this?" he asks, looking down at the photograph not really understanding what he's seeing. Caroline wishes she was in a better mood so she could laugh at this.

"It's your daughter."

His face snaps up at her, wide-eyed and clearly speechless.

Caroline grins. As rocked as this boat is, she can’t help but find his reaction endearing. She moves a little closer, pointing to a tiny point in the middle of the image. "The tiny thing that looks like a big-headed alien. That's her." Klaus looks back down at the ultrasound image, mesmerized. "She's strong and healthy, by the way. It's just the mom who's a little stressed out."

He lifts his face again, eyeing Caroline questioningly. "Are you ok?"

"Everything's fine. I just have to take some vitamins, eat my beets and do some yoga for my back. The baby may be magical, but my body is still very much human."

Something in Klaus' expression softens again, the hard shield in his eyes dissipating as he traces the contour of the baby on the image with the tip of his index finger.

"I counted all her fingers and toes, three times. No horns, no tails or wings either. I was half-expecting to see a unicorn when the doctor turned on the ultrasound, was already making up excuses for any strange features she might see, but... She's perfectly normal." Caroline pauses, eyes flickering away from him for a moment, down to the picture in his hand, then back. "You know, when I saw her on the screen and listened to her little heart beating... All I could think about is that I wanted you to be there. I am _so_ mad at you, Klaus, you have no idea. But you're not the only one with a sad father story. Mine left me when I was ten. He was a witch, a powerful one, and I was the biggest disappointment of his life. I had no obvious talent for magic and wasn't all that interested either. I botched everything he tried to teach me. I remember hearing him say _This family is killing me_ when he packed up his things and left."

She stops, swallowing past a lump in her throat, her mind reeling to a moment almost ten years before. It feels like yesterday. Caroline places a protective hand on her belly; now that she's about to have her own child, those wounds feel brand new again.

"He disappeared for years and then one day he showed up on our door again. I thought he'd had a change of heart and realized the errors of his way, that maybe he missed me, wanted to make amends. But actually he was just there to hunt vampires. Word got out that our supernatural population was starting to grow. He used me to get to them and then said he was ashamed his own daughter had become a _vampire lover_ when I tried to help my friends. He... Tortured me for a little while there. I couldn't even fight back, so shocked that I was. It was like... Being in a bad dream. There was a part of me that refused to believe that my dad would do that to me. There had to be an explanation or a reason. But there wasn't. He just really... Really hated vampires more than he ever loved me. I knew it wasn't my fault, that I'd never done anything to warrant that kind of hatred, but it still... Broke me."

Her voice breaks down at the end, warm tears pricking her eyes. Klaus shifts closer, and for a second Caroline thinks he's going to touch her, or hug her, or just pull her into him. Despite their differences and the fact they're clearly not in a good place at the moment, she wouldn't mind him doing so. But his hand stills mid-air, and he hesitates. Instead, Klaus pulls a lock of hair behind her ear, the tips of his fingers grazing her skin lightly, lingering for just a second too long. A rush travels through her at his touch. Caroline doesn't breathe until he pulls his hand away.

He seems to struggle for a moment, unsure of what to say, finally settling upon, "I had no idea."

She nods, wiping away the tears with the back of her hands.

"No, you didn't. Because we don't talk. Remember that time you said you wanted to know all about my hopes and dreams and things that I want in life? Feels like a million years ago."

"I still do. I just... I'm scared all the time, Caroline. For you. For the child. This city is out to get my family and everything that I care for."

"I'm scared too. I'm freaking out, Klaus. As I was there today at the doctor, the whole thing with my dad came back to me. All the nights I spent awake, crying, blaming myself, thinking that it was my fault he left. And I realized... I don't want my daughter to go through the same thing that I did. So you're gonna have to do better."

There's a light shrug, and Klaus looks down almost sheepishly. "I'll admit that I wasn't that thrilled by the idea of having a child at first."

"Yeah, I know." He frowns at her. "I heard you talking to Marcel. Apparently you're fine confiding these things to everyone else, even your mortal enemies."

"That's not– How was I supposed to tell you that?"

"The same way you told him. I don't hold that against you. _I_ was far from excited about this pregnancy myself. It would've been nice to have someone to talk to who _wasn’t_ , actually. Your siblings are great, but they were _way_ too on board right off the bat. It was a little… Intimidating."

"You keep saying that, but why didn't _you_ try to talk to me? Why was I the only one supposed to start conversation?"

"Because you snapping at everyone all the time does not invite conversation, Klaus."

He opens his mouth to protest some more, but then snaps it back shut with an exhale.

"What I was saying," he continues after a moment. "Is that I wasn't excited at first, and I'm still... Working on it. But I recalled my own father. How he held me in contempt from the moment I was born, as yours did with you. And rest assured, Caroline, whatever doubts and inadequacies I might have over fatherhood, I won't do to my child what was done to me. To us," he vows with steel in his eyes.

Caroline hears the promise in his voice, and then she takes in the dreadful state he's in. His blood-soaked clothes, the red stains on the skin of his neck and hands, the bullet-sized holes on his jacket.

There is more than one way to torture a child. Klaus isn't the only one guilty of this kind of behavior, and she's been around long enough to know that, in their world, engaging in violence is inevitable. Sometimes, it's survival. But to Klaus... That's a normal Wednesday.

She smiles shortly, refusing to meet his eyes. "Good. You can keep that, by the way," she nods towards the picture still in his hand.

He nods. "I'll let you rest, then."

"Thanks."

He stops by the door before leaving, looks back at her with a question on his eyes. But then his gaze falls and he shuts the door gently behind him as he leaves.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Elijah is deliberately noisy in his arrival as to not startle her again.

He waited until she came outside to go up on her balcony. Somehow, barging into her room felt like too much of an intrusion. And if Niklaus finds him there... Well. It's best if they try to keep the animosities to a low, if they can help it.

Caroline seems distracted, watching the movement outside as loud groups of tourists rejoice in their evening strolls across the French Quarter. But when she hears him landing, she turns around, an expectant look in her eyes.

"How did it go?" she asks, her grip on the bannister tightening nervously.

Elijah smiles, genuinely satisfied to be the bearer of good news, for a change. "They're safe. All of them."

Caroline draws a relieved breath, her whole face lighting up. She rushes to Elijah, wrapping her arms tightly around him. "Thank you," she mumbles. "Thank you so much, Elijah."

He swallows down hard, shutting his eyes against the roar of need that flares up inside of him. Every ounce of his will commands him to hold her, to bury his face in her golden locks, to pull her closer, flush against him. The sweet scent of her fills his nostrils, overwhelming his senses, and it's all Elijah can do to remain very still.

She pulls away, smiling like sunshine at him. "I know it wasn't easy for you, going against your brother to protect werewolves. I hope you know how much I appreciate it."

He grins nervously, trying not to meet her gaze, putting some space between them. "How was your appointment with the doctor?"

She shrugs. "Fine. Everything's good."

"Has Niklaus...?"

Caroline sighs wearily, her expression becoming immediately clouded as she turns back to the street. "You know him. He wasn't too pleased, as you can imagine, especially since I had to knock out a few of his sentinels to escape."

So he's keeping her a prisoner again. His brother is the very definition of insane, attempting the same things over and over, expecting different outcomes.

"I'm sorry," Elijah says.

"It's ok. Well, no, it isn't. It's _far_ from ok. But... I'll be fine. At least the view is better here."

 _The view is perfect_ , Elijah thinks, feeling a sting of guilt almost immediately.

_There isn't a world where being with Nik is better for anyone than being with you._

Rebekah's voice thunders in his head. She is so close... He wouldn't even have to take a full step to reach her. A violent chill runs down his spine as he imagines himself being bold, obstinate, and putting his hands on the curve of her waist and the small of her back. He wonders what it would be like to kiss her, whether she'd yield in his arms, surrender to his ministrations. He wants to taste her, to find out what's so intoxicating about Caroline Forbes that had his unflappable brother bent at her will.

Maybe Niklaus deserves to lose her. He is neither emotionally mature nor sensible enough to appreciate just how lucky he is. And if that's the case, if his brother is too blind or too proud to honor the once-in-a-million-lifetimes opportunity he's been given, then it is his own fault if Caroline decides she no longer wants to wait around for him to grow a conscience.

 _No_.

He faces away from her, taking two large steps back. He cannot allow himself these fantasies. Cannot entertain these thoughts. Not after Tatia and Aurora. As crazy as it is, he actually owes it to his brother to stay out of this.

It would be one thing if Caroline were to reciprocate his feelings, but so far he's had no evidence whatsoever of that. She treats him like a friend — a dear one, perhaps, someone she trusts, but nothing more.

"Elijah?" she questions, and he realizes his sudden distance might have seemed odd.

"I should go," he says.

She nods. "Okay. Thank you again."

"Don't hesitate to contact me or Rebekah if you ever need anything. Anything at all."

Caroline smiles again. "I know I can count on you," she says.

Elijah feels a twist in his chest, but keeps it off his expression. "Good night, Caroline." And then he's gone.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Klaus stops halfway on the stairs, sighing.

He feels bone-weary, mentally spent and just had to go down to the cellar himself to fetch a new bottle of bourbon because apparently Marcel excused the vampires from service tonight, which makes him also terribly annoyed. He is in no mood for lectures and chidings; his quota for the day has been gloriously filled by Caroline, who never fails to find fault in his actions. Although... Not everything about their conversation was terrible. She confided in him about her father. Confessed she'd wanted him to be with her as she went on her doctor appointment. And gave him a picture of the ultrasound. Silver linings and all. He was only beginning to feel a little better, and then...

Elijah did always have a terrible sense of timing.

"Haven't you had your fill of telling me all the ways I have disappointed you, Elijah?" he asks, not turning around to meet his big brother's always unforgiving stare.

"There is something important we neglected to discuss," he says. Bracing himself, Klaus finally whirls around to face him, who looks up from the bottom of the staircase. "I accused you of having motives regarding your child. I was wrong. I'm sorry."

Klaus’ brow bunches in confusion for a second. He did not see that coming. He remains silent for a moment, waiting for Elijah to add something — I'm sorry, _but_ you brought this on yourself. _But_ your child would be better without you anyway. _But_ you’re a disappointment to your family. Elijah says nothing, though. He merely waits, his eyes unreadable, but not hard.

He would never say those things, anyway. Elijah is far too kind for that. Far too loyal. With a pang, Klaus realizes that a large portion of the resentment he's been fostering in the last few of weeks comes from how his head fills in the blanks he imagines in his brother's speech. No one has to say anything; Klaus provides his own narrative. And perhaps he's right; but perhaps he isn't.

The only truth is... He remains absolutely no good without his big brother.

"I imagine that must have been hard for you to say."

Elijah's lips curl into a sad smile. "You don't make it easy to love you, brother."

"And yet you're obstinate in your desire to do so." Klaus' gaze flickers away from his brother, down to the bottle of bourbon in his hand, than back. "When you're ready, should you be so inclined, both you and Rebekah are welcome to join Caroline and myself here. It is, after all, our family home."

Elijah doesn't quite hide the bewilderment, his lips parting but no sound coming out. He was obviously not expecting a formal invitation to move in. Truth be told, it wasn't in Klaus' plans either.

The thing about keeping your enemies closer than your friends is that, one day, you might wake up to realize enemies is all you've got. Aside from Caroline, and perhaps Marcel, Klaus has been awfully lonely at the French Quarter. Coming back home has been nothing like he thought it would be. This compound — it is too big, too full of memories, for just two people. Strength in numbers, they say. Strength in loyalty, he thinks. He can count on one hand how many people he'd trust Caroline's life with. And Elijah and Rebekah are definitely amongst those.

Also... He just really misses his siblings.

He leaves Elijah to stew in his thoughts and retires into his studio, only sending a quick glance towards the closed door of Caroline's bedroom.

Some days feel far lonelier than others.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... thoughts?! There's a lot to unpack here and I'm really looking forward to seeing what you guys think! :)


	10. S01E10 The Casket Girls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, THANK YOU SO. SO. MUCH for the incredible response to this story! :) Really, it's gone beyond all my initial expectations for this story and it's inspiring me to keep going. So, since I asked you guys to drop me a note and let me know if you wanted quicker updates and you guys have delivered on your end, here it is. Not as fast as the last one, but I think a little over a week is still pretty good timing! Thank you so much, guys! And, again, I'm easy like Sunday morning when it comes to bribes. 
> 
> As always, have to thank [coveredinthecolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/pseuds/coveredinthecolors) for her awesome beta services, which have included name-calling Elijah and starting a Klaus supporting group. She also helped me beat this into shape and make it an all-around better read! ❤ If you haven't already, I strongly recommend that you check out her stuff. It's truly, truly amazing.
> 
> You'll probably still find several mistakes there, and they're all my own. English is not my first language, so I apologize beforehand.
> 
> Also, episode 10 of **The Originals** starts with one my favorite songs from the show's soundtrack and I've been listening to it nonstop since I wrote this chapter. So if you guys would like some MOOD, the song is called **Dark Doo Wop** , by _Ms Mr_.

For centuries, people have come to New Orleans looking for a fresh start, hoping to find fortune, adventure, even love. Back in the really old days, young society women were imported from France with the promise of marrying a proper gentleman.

That's how the legend of the casket girls began. Women brought in carriages, expecting to meet the love of their lives, found themselves surrounded by savages. The men in New Orleans, as it turns out, were far from proper, and not at all gentle.

The poor three girls that started the tale would've met their fates on a dirt road before even making it into the city — if someone hadn't come to their rescue. A woman, recently awakened from a deep slumber, rising from her casket to free the foreign women.

That's the story Rebekah told Caroline, anyway, when she asked about all the fuss outside. "It's not Mardi Gras, is it?"

"Oh, darling. It's something much better."

The story took root, became part of the town's folklore, and it lives on 'till this day, now celebrated in typical New Orleans fashion, in stylish costumes and supernatural flair. It's a yearly reminder of how women can be oppressed by selfish men and how they can triumph when they are brave enough to fight for themselves.

It's a nice thought, but the skeptic in Caroline thinks all those drunkards flocking around the streets hardly remember what they're really partying about. She wonders how they'd feel if they knew the original casket girl herself still walks among them.

Rebekah has been searching the whole house after a dress to wear for the celebration, going through her trunks filled with clothes that are probably as old as the legend itself. With nothing better to do, Caroline offered to help. Just watching all the commotion outside all day from her balcony was kind of dampening the little good mood she still had in her after Klaus' magnanimous decision to invite his siblings to move in with them. What she wouldn't give to have a margarita with one of those casket girls dancing under her window right now...

She's supposed to take the dresses down to Rebekah, but she couldn't resist trying on one of them. How is it possible for one person to have so many dresses, all so similar? Caroline used to think she was a fashion whore, but Rebekah beats her, easily.

She should've realized it wouldn't fit, though. Five and a half months pregnant and she's finally at that stage where she can't just suck in a breath and act like she just had a bit too much to eat for lunch. It’s a matter of weeks now before she can no longer delay a trip to the nearest mall.

"Can I offer you some assistance?"

Caroline turns, finding Elijah standing by the door, an amused grin on his face.

She hesitates, unsure of what to say, but he takes her silence for affirmation and approaches, positioning himself right behind her. Caroline exchanges a look with him through the mirror, smiling awkwardly. "You might need to use all your vampire strength to zip me up."

Elijah smiles, putting a hand on her shoulder while the other hovers above the small of her back, where the zipper is stuck. "Allow me."

Caroline swallows as he pulls the zipper up, rather easily, actually. Her body goes all stiff as she feels his hands ghosting over her skin.

The few months she's spent in New Orleans so far have felt like an entire lifetime, and have been nothing short of hardships. She's faced everything — attacks, betrayal, near-death experiences, unexpected alliances... And Elijah was there for most of it, a strong, unrelenting presence she's leaned on for support on more than a few occasions. Her initial suspicions about the oldest Original's character as a whole were completely dispelled as they got closer. Elena’s assessment of him was not wrong; Elijah truly is the noblest of the Mikaelson bunch.

Caroline has come to think of him as a true friend, and she'd trust her life — and that of her child — to him. But if she claims not to have noticed the way Elijah looks at her sometimes... Well.

There's something very wistful about it, which makes her think that his interest might have more to do with the _idea_ she currently represents than with anything else. Caroline is carrying the first Mikaelson baby in a millennium, and Elijah is holding on to it with everything he's got. Like with Rebekah, there's something of a romantic within Elijah. Not in the sense that he wants a fairy tale wedding and a beautiful family in a house with white picket fences. Romantic in the sense that he still waits for a happy ending, for a magic fix to a thousand years of wrongdoings. Romantic in the sense that Elijah refuses to lose hope.

Caroline admires that about him. She used to be that person, back in Mystic Falls. The hopelessly optimistic one, always choosing to see a glass half full even if what filled the glass was blood. Lately... Not so much. She tries her best, mostly because of the baby — what's the point of bringing a child into this world if you're not at least a little bit _hopeful_? But New Orleans has graciously showed her a side of the supernatural world that's even darker than what she'd seen back home. It's just... Bigger. More vicious. And it makes her scared. For herself, for her baby, for the future. That's when she looks to Elijah for inspiration. If he can keep his hopes up after living through a thousand years of murder and deception, then so can she.

Which is why she's afraid to touch her finger on the raw and just be straightforward with him. She hasn't encouraged him, she thinks. Not wittingly, anyway. But he should know exactly where they stand here. He's a good friend, a great one, even, and she cares for him very deeply. But if he's expecting this to turn into something more, than... Maybe he shouldn't hold his breath.

The last thing Caroline wants here is to start another Gilbert-Salvatore incident. She never made a secret of her criticism of Elena, stringing Damon along while she was with Stefan, and then doing the same thing to Stefan once she started having feelings for Damon, pitting brother against brother in a relationship that was already strained to begin with. Not that Elena should've ever gone for Damon, mind you, but that's a different thing altogether. Caroline's pretty certain Elena would say the same thing about her going for Klaus, and, well. She can't exactly say her friend wouldn't have a point.

It does not change her feelings, though. Or the fact she's got a five months bun in the oven with Klaus' favorable, magical genetics all over it. It seems, when it comes to the middle Mikaelson, she's just as much of a romantic as Elijah.

"Thanks," she says. "Don't tell Rebekah I wore her dress. She’s gonna nag me about _stretching_ the delicate fabric. I'm supposed to be helping her find the perfect outfit for the Casket Girls night, but I couldn't resist trying it on. Not too many pregnant casket girls, I guess." she sighs, resting a hand on top of the visible bump on her stomach. It really is straining the silk. "I'm getting at that stage where I don't fit anything anymore."

"I think you look lovely."

Both she and Elijah snap around, the oldest Original taking a deliberate step back as they spot Klaus by the door, a familiar smirk on his lips that does not meet the dark glint in his eyes.

"Oh," Caroline says, more than a little flustered. "Uhm. Thank you. All knocked up here and with nowhere to go." She lets out a little mirthless laugh, turning back to the mirror in order to avoid the tension in the room.

"Why didn't you say you wanted to attend the festivities tonight?" Elijah asks. "I would be more than willing to take you."

"Nonsense," Klaus cuts in, joining the two of them by the mirror. Caroline looks at her own reflection, with one Mikaelson brother on each side, and swallows down hard. "I have just been crowned the king of New Orleans. You'd be perfectly safe with me as your chaperone. Not to mention — it would be a good way for the folks of this town to know you're under my protection."

"It's a festival, Niklaus. Do you honestly think it's appropriate to turn it into a show of strength?"

"Everything is a show of strength, Elijah. Or have you learned absolutely nothing yet, brother?"

"I've learned that whenever your _shows of strength_ get involved, tragedy follows close behind, and I wouldn't want anything bad to happen on such a joyous evening, with so many tourists in town. Especially with the mother of your child in attendance."

Klaus takes a step forward, his eyes flashing. "Are you implying that I don't care enough about the well-being of the mother of my child, _brother_?"

"What I'm implying, _brother_ , is that, as always, your carelessness might cost you dearly."

"All right!" Caroline cuts in with a loud clap of her hands, attracting both sets of eyes back to her. "I think we're all getting a little carried away here. Nobody has to imply anything because the baby mamma here does not want to attend the festival, so it's all cool." She smiles, looking from one to the other. "Ok? No need to rock the boat."

"Forgive us if our quarreling has made you change your mind, Caroline," Elijah says, looking genuinely guilty.

"Don't give up on your plans on Elijah's account, love," Klaus adds, flashing his dimples with a cheeky grin.

" _This_ doesn't exactly scream party," she says, pointing down to her stomach. "I'd rather just stay in and chill. By myself. With a book. In my room, perfectly safe. But thank you, though. I appreciate the sentiment. I think. From both of you." Elijah and Klaus exchange a glare. "I'm gonna go get out of this and take it to Rebekah. I'll... See you guys around."

Caroline turns on her heels and scurries out of the room as fast as possible, only stopping once she's back in her bedroom, with the door closed behind her. She shuts her eyes for a second, letting out a deep sigh.

Elijah, Klaus, and herself, living together in the French Quarter.

This is gonna be an adventure.

 

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Caroline retires into the safety of her bedroom for the next hour, just to avoid any uncomfortable encounters. When she finally reemerges, it's like the house has gone up in flames.

She nearly bumps into a vampire she's never seen before, the man so determined he doesn't even stop or steers off her path as she's stepping out into the second floor balcony. "Excuse you," she grumbles. If he wasn't a vampire, she'd say he didn't even hear her.

And he's not the only one. Apparently, all vampires in New Orleans with a daylight ring have suddenly flocked over to the Mikaelson compound, all looking stern and in a hurry.

Caroline finds Rebekah still going through some of the trunks she brought over from the plantation near the courtyard.

"Oh, there you are," the youngest Original says. "I thought you'd run off with my dress. How did it look?"

"I wasn't trying it on." Rebekah gives her a look, arching one perfectly plucked eyebrow her way. Caroline rolls her eyes. "Very pregnant,” she relents. “But I'm not going to the festival anyway, so if you want to wear it, it'll look much better on you."

She puts the dress back in one of the trunks, next to dozens of other equally beautiful and antique pieces. Rebekah could just close her eyes and pick whatever and Caroline's certain she'd have a wonderful outfit, perfectly suitable to a dead and angry princess, out to eat the hearts of men during the Casket Girls parade.

"Why aren't you going?" Rebekah asks. "I'd be glad to go with you, if you want."

Caroline smiles wanly. "Thank you, but I think I'm gonna sit this one out. I'm all for helping you get ready if you want, though."

"Is this about Nik? Because I'll have you know that I really don't care about my brother's butthurt feelings."

"It's not his butthurt feelings I'm worried about." There's a lot of movement on the second floor all of a sudden, as Marcel, Elijah and Klaus step out of a room, followed close behind by a group of what Caroline identifies as Marcel's closest allies. All talking hurriedly and gesticulating and apparently flinching at Klaus' snarls. "What is going on here? Did I miss the memo where we're starting World War Three?"

"You haven't heard? The little witch is missing."

Her face snaps back to Rebekah. "What? Davina is missing?"

"Walked right out the front door, apparently."

Well, that explains it, then. Klaus had Marcel moved the girl from the church into the compound just yesterday. And by the looks of it, she was not very happy about the new alliance forged between her protector and the new evil overlord in town. Curious as she was, Caroline stopped by her room while she was getting settled, just wanting to take a peek at this legendary mythical being that's made her life impossibly difficult for the past few months.

She was surprised by how young Davina looks. She knew she was supposed to be sixteen, but she seems even younger. It broke Caroline's heart a little bit, made her feel incredibly sympathetic. She knows very well what it's like to have the weight of the world on your shoulders before you're even equipped to deal with the pressure. But at 16, she had her mother and her friends to help her through it. Davina had nobody but Marcel, an old vampire with a dodgy history at best. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it must've been like for her to be confined to an attic for months, afraid that at any minute a witch would come in and stick a knife into her throat to finish the Harvest. And then, later, that an Original would come in and snatch her away, force her to work for them in a war where, at this point, it's hard to even know who the good guys really are, if there's even a right side at all.

But when Davina finally spotted her spying by the door and their gazes met, Caroline felt a cold shudder up her spine. There was a hardness way beyond her years in that girl's eyes.

"What?" Davina asked with a snap in her voice.

Caroline stepped into the room. "Heard you were moving in."

Davina regarded her for a moment, her eyes dropping to Caroline's baby bump before moving up again. "You're Klaus' wife."

She snorted loudly. "No. I'm no one's wife. And I have a name, by the way. It's Caroline. And you're Davina."

"So?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to say hi."

"Right. What is it that you want?"

Caroline frowned. "Why would I want anything from you?"

"Because everyone else does."

"I'm a witch, Davina. Whatever I want, I can get myself."

The girl seemed to consider her words for a moment before dismissing whatever passed through her mind and going back to rummaging through a box after something.

"What are you looking for?" Caroline asked.

"My violin. I must've left it at the church."

"Why don't you go get it?"

"I can't. It's not safe for me out there."

Caroline folds her arms across her chest. "Funny. I had the impression that everyone was afraid of you."

"The witches are after me, just waiting for an opportunity to ambush me."

"You mean Agnes?" Davina stopped, finally looking back at Caroline. "Yeah, I had a couple bad experiences with her too. But she's dead now."

Davina rushed to her feet, her face morphing into one of sheer shock. "Agnes is dead?"

"Yeah. You didn't hear about it? Klaus and Elijah killed her."

"But... She was the last living elder of our coven. If she's gone, that means I'm safe. They can't perform the ritual anymore." She paused then, her eyes filling with sadness. Suddenly, she looked even younger. "Marcel would've told me."

Caroline shrugged. "Maybe he didn't want to let you go."

"Caroline."

Caroline blinks out of her thoughts, her eyes focusing back on Rebekah, who's watching her closely. "What?"

"You zoned out just there."

"Yeah. Well." She turns away, pretending to fix the dresses inside the trunk. "I'm not surprised she managed to walk out right under their noses. Klaus' sentinels are big but brainless and definitely not very good at dealing with witches."

"You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"No," she says, not missing a beat. Rebekah gives her a prodding look, and Caroline sighs. "I had a little conversation with her yesterday. I may have told her that... the witch elders were all dead."

"Why would she care? The witches tried to kill her in their ritual."

"That's the thing. If the elders are gone, there is no ritual. And Marcel failed to provide her with that bit of crucial information. Agnes was the one thing preventing her from being free."

"Oh," Rebekah says. "So _you're_ the reason she's run off."

"I was just being honest," Caroline protests defensively. "I didn't know it was a secret or that Marcel had lied to her about it. She's the one who made the connections and realized that she was being used." She stops, looking up at where Klaus, Marcel and Elijah are still talking, overlooking the movement on the courtyard. "Klaus is going to kill me when he finds out, isn't he?"

"Oh, rest assured Nik will be _furious_. But he won't kill you, don't worry. Besides, he doesn't have to know."

She looks back at Rebekah. "You're not telling him?"

"Why would I? I've never been a fan of the boys' club. Just wait. Elijah will join them full time and the three of them will be impossible. That girl was used by the witches, lied to by Marcel, manipulated by Elijah, threatened by Nik... She's a modern day casket girl. I'm glad she got to walk out."

Caroline narrows her eyes at the vampire, thoughtfully. "Are we still talking about Davina?"

Rebekah shrugs. "Does it matter? Either way," she says, smiling. "Us girls have got to stick together."

 

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"So, do you know when you'll be able to come home yet?"

Caroline pauses, watching from her balcony as the street gets more and more crowded before the Casket Girls festival tonight. Her gaze slides down to her swollen belly. Not too long ago Caroline used to tell herself that everything would be made right with the world just as soon as the baby was born. Like going into labor would spark a magic that would fix all her problems. She would be able to go home, get her life back, continue on with her plans. Now, though, she realizes that was all wishful thinking.

She's less than four months away from childbirth and things have never been more complicated. Caroline has absolutely no idea what's going to happen. The only thing she's certain of is that she does not know when she'll ever be able to go home.

"No, not yet," she tells her mom. "Things here are very... intense."

"You need a break, honey. You've been working yourself into the ground from what you tell me. I know Stanford was your dream, but..." Caroline shuts her eyes against the tightness in her chest. Her mother keeps saying that every single time they speak on the phone. _Stanford was your dream._ It was _never_ her dream. She doesn’t think she’s ever even mentioned Stanford as a possibility. Rebekah must've used those exact words when she compelled the whole town.

Maybe she should name the baby Stanford.

 _It's for the best_ , Caroline tells herself. Her mom would probably have ended up dead by now, or at least severely injured, if she'd been in New Orleans. And she would be, for certain, if she knew about the pregnancy and Klaus. She'd never leave Caroline alone with the Original family. As painful as lying to her mom may be, it's a small mercy.

"I'll be fine, mom, I promise. Don't worry about me. When I do get to go home... It'll be great. You'll be very proud of me."

"I'm always proud of you." Caroline hears the smile on her mom's voice, imagines her beautiful face lighting up as she says it. "I have to go now, honey, there's some people here at the station to see me."

"Alright, sheriff. Get to work. I'll talk to you soon."

"Take care, honey. I love you."

"Love you too, mom."

Getting off the phone with her mother is always tough. Sometimes she wonders if it wouldn't be better to cut ties completely. Caroline's always been a terrible liar, and she hates having to come up with new excuses every time they talk, or mentioning things about made up people and professors whose name she’s only ever read online. She spent an entire week doing research on everything about Stanford and Northern California, just to have more depth to her lies. She's diligent like that. Liz has heard everything about Caroline's roommate, _Renata_ , who's a bitch with a good heart; her best friend _Elliot_ , who’s uptight and a bit of a snob, but so sweet and understanding; and this dude _Nicholas_ , who drives her crazy. "Are you dating this boy, Caroline?" her mom asked.

"What? No! Did you not just hear me say he's a manipulative jerk?"

"Yes, but you've always had a thing for the bad boys and it sounds a lot like there's a _spark_ there. Maybe that's exactly why you keep fighting so much. Maybe you should go out with him, just to see what happens."

Honestly, Liz Forbes sometimes...

Hanging up the phone feels a bit like letting go, like she's constantly making a choice between her life now - New Orleans, Mikaelsons, babies - and the part that came before - high school, lifelong friends, her mother. As difficult and dangerous as things were before, it seems impossibly simpler compared to now.

Her phone rings again and Caroline smiles. Liz will often do that; she hangs up and then calls back immediately because she forgot to mention that Elena has sent her love, or to tell her that she's found an old coat Caroline used liked so much, and wouldn't she want Liz to send it to her.

"Mom, you have work," she says as she takes the call without even looking.

"Sorry. Not mom."

Caroline frowns, pulling the phone away. It's Sophie Deveraux. Her mood instantly goes from nostalgic to irate.

"What do you want?" she bites out waspishly.

"I know you don't trust me, but I need you to listen, ok? Everything's about to change. Davina's on the loose."

Caroline feels a pang at that. It's at least a little bit her fault that the girl left the compound without telling anyone and, even though Agnes is dead, clearly the witches are still interested. If anything, then at least to get revenge. But Davina is stronger than all of them, and more motivated as well. She can take care of herself.

"News travel fast," she says, curtly. "Remind me again why I should care?"

"I need something from you so that the witches can complete the Harvest."

She lets out a bark of a laugh in utter disbelief. " _What_? You want my help to kill Davina?"

"Davina won't stay dead, and neither will the other girls."

"What makes you think I would ever help you, Sophie? Especially with something that will make you more powerful. All you people have done since I got in this town is hex me left and right."

"You'll help me because I can help you with something in return."

"I don't need your help, Sophie, I need you to stay away from me."

"The wolves in the Bayou," the witch says hurriedly, perhaps sensing Caroline was about to hang up. It piques her interest. "The ones who saved your life. I know you've been back there, that you've shown an interest in finding out what happened to them. You know they were cursed on Marcel's orders years ago."

"So?"

"So I can undo the curse."

"Have you forgotten that you're talking to a witch? Anything you can do, I can do myself."

"Not this, you can't. The curse was placed by my bloodline, Caroline. It was our power that put them in wolf form, and it's only our power that can undo it. It's directly connected to us. And if our access to magic fades for good, they'll be forever trapped in wolf form."

Caroline's lip curls into a scowl. She's bluffing. She has to be. But then again — she knows that kind of magic. It's not uncommon for a witch to attach her own blood to a spell or a curse in an attempt to make it harder to break — and to guarantee they won't be wiped out in revenge. The wolves could've just attacked whoever placed the curse on them, but then they'd be ending the only way to ever undo it. Clever, but not faultless. "There's always a loophole. I can find it."

"Maybe. But how long do you think it'll take? Help me, and I'll undo the curse for you."

"I'm not going to help you kill Davina."

"I'm not asking you to. I need to consecrate the remains of a powerful witch so I can absorb their magic and become an elder myself, that way I can perform the ritual. And I know of one whose remains were never found. Her name was Celeste Dubois. And I believe she and you have a friend in common."

Caroline curses under her breath. "Elijah." _Of course_ it would have something to do with the Mikaelsons, or Sophie would never ask her help. She's only doing it because she knows that, whatever happens, they won't turn on her. And using the wolves Caroline has been trying to figure out a way to help as blackmail... It's a low blow.

"Story goes that when she died he buried her in a secret spot at her request," Sophie continues. "All I need you to do is find out where."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that? Oh, hey, Elijah, remember that woman you loved with all your heart who got viciously murdered 200 years ago? You wouldn't happen to remember where you buried her, would you?"

"I don't know. But I'm sure you'll think of something."

Just when she thought she was finally rid of those witches for good... _Fucking hell_.

The worst part is... Caroline knows exactly where to find the information Sophie needs.

 

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"Well, isn't this monumentally awkward," Elijah says as Marcel finally returns to his senses. Davina did not go light on him. On any of them, for that matter. His ruined clothes, covered in blood, are proof of the girl's ruthlessness. Then again, Niklaus did provoke the worst of her ire so, in a sense, they deserved exactly what they got.

His brother used her little musician boyfriend, Timothy, to lure her into the compound. The theatrics of putting the boy up on a beam from which he'd never be able to climb down on his own, playing his violin, was taking it a bit too far in Elijah's opinion. All they wanted was to find the witch, there was no need to make her angry. But angry she was.

She bent Niklaus with a flick of her wrist, reducing him to a mass of broken bones as she forced his werewolf transformation before snapping his neck. Then she moved on to Elijah, whom she called _a manipulative murderer_ before drowning him in his own blood.

Elijah would very much like to see what happened with Marcellus, but when he came to, the other vampire was dead on the ground with a stake hole in his chest. She missed his heart, which was a mercy, he assumes. There was no sign of Timothy or Davina.

Three ancient vampires, two of them Originals, one of them a hybrid, all bested by a sixteen year-old witch. That's not something you see every day.

If Elijah hadn’t previously anticipated something of the sort to happening, he'd be sincerely ashamed.

Niklaus, on the other hand, would normally be furious out of his mind. Instead, he is... Almost calm, Elijah would say. It should be odd, but it was also expected. His brother is so predictable...

"Rebekah, where are you?" Klaus says on the phone while Elijah offers a hand to help Marcel up. They may have all the differences in the world, but the two of them at least agree when it comes to putting limits to his brother's machinations.

"I'm with Davina and she is dying because of your treachery," his sister snarls on the other end.

"Well, I tried to talk to her out of respect for Marcel, but she made it quite clear she is not our friend. My apologies if you thought she was yours."

"Just tell me how to cure her," Rebekah says, urgently. "Vampire blood isn't working."

"No, it wouldn't." Niklaus smirks, rather proud of his little evil plan. "You see the poison I compelled Timothy to feed her in case things got out of hand around here is quite potent."

Elijah senses as Marcel bristles next to him, starting at Klaus. He puts a hand on the younger man's shoulder and holds him back. Davina may be stronger than the three of them together, but Niklaus is certainly stronger than the two others.

"It's just a matter of time for her," Klaus smirks, looking directly at Marcel.

"For both of them, you diabolical bastard. They're children!" Rebekah barks. "We could've dealt with them fairly."

"There is no dealing with those who threaten us. Davina sealed her fate when she stood against me. This was her choice, not mine."

He hangs up the phone, and starts laughing. Sometimes Elijah swears Niklaus just _begs_ to get his face punched.

"Oh, come on. The stench of your judgement is overwhelming. Need I remind you that Davina just bested the three of us? I did what had to be done," he says with a nonchalant shrug. As though murdering two children is just another Wednesday for him. "Don't worry, Elijah," his brother continues, smiling. "I remain as redeemable as ever."

"What is going on here?"

The three of them turn to find Caroline, followed closely by the two sentinels Niklaus sent with her back to the plantation house. She said she wanted to grab some things she'd left behind when she moved in a hurry, and it seemed like a good way to keep her away from the _action_ taking place at the French Quarter this evening.

Her timing to leave was perfect, and so was her timing to return.

She approaches them with tentative steps, looking from the giant pool of blood on the floor where Elijah had been lying a second before, to his appalling state, then to Marcel and his obvious wound, and then finally at Niklaus, who, despite having suffered immeasurable pain, has recovered just fine.

"We're just having a little gathering, love," his brother says. "Nothing to worry about."

"A little gathering? Elijah, what...?" she trails off, motioning towards him.

"A minor inconvenience. I'm fine," he replies.

"You were talking about Davina. I heard you. What happened? What did you do?"

Before his brother can open his mouth to come up with an excuse that will make him look less vile, Elijah cuts in. "He compelled Davina's boyfriend, Timothy, to poison himself and her, without consulting Marcel or myself."

"You _what_?" Caroline snaps, her eyes fixing on Niklaus in sheer disbelief.

"You know what the worst part is?" Marcel says. "Is that you are so predictable, Klaus, that I had to make an alliance with your brother, who I don't even like."

Suddenly, the arrogant expression on Klaus' face changes, morphs into one of distaste. If there's one thing his brother cannot tolerate is to be outsmarted.

"Judging by your expression, you have something you'd like to share," he tells Marcel.

"Damn straight I do. I got a call from father Kieran earlier. Right after Sabine and some other witches almost got their hands on Davina first. She kicked their asses pretty hard, even killed some of them, so Sabine wasn't in a position to negotiate. We stroke a deal pretty quick. She put a protection spell on Davina."

Klaus' upper lip curls. "So when you slipped away to allegedly check on your nightwalkers, you were, in fact, colluding with a witch."

"Oh my God, stop saying that!" Caroline cuts in. "You have no problem colluding with witches when it suits you."

"The witches I collude with, last time I checked, had not proved to be enemies to us all," he says with a snap, looking straight at Elijah. "To everything we have. To our family."

"Davina in Marcel's family, Niklaus, or did that somehow slip your mind as you tried to take her life?" Elijah says. "You'll call Rebekah and you will tell her that Davina will recover."

"Wait," Caroline says. "What about the boy?"

"I didn't know Klaus would involve him, or I would've found a way to protect him as well," Marcel says, anger shining through his dark eyes. "You can't get more innocent than that kid."

Caroline steps in front of Klaus, right on his face, chin jutted obstinately, blue eyes glinting with fierce purpose. "Are you really gonna let an innocent boy die out of spite?"

"Davina needed to be taught a lesson," his brother counters.

"He's a _kid_ , Klaus. Do you think you're being any better than those witches by involving someone who never asked to be a part of this in your ploy against them?" Never one to let someone else have the last word, Klaus opens his mouth to bark a response, even though he'll hardly have anything compelling other than his own misguided sense of self-righteousness to offer Caroline. But she stops him with a wave of her hand. "That girl was used and manipulated by every person she's ever dared to trust. The elder witches in her coven, her own family, Marcel, Elijah, _you_. _All of you_ have betrayed her. How can you blame her for turning on you? You treat her like she's a _thing_ , a weapon, but she's just a kid, Klaus, in love for the first time. She never asked for anything that happened to her. I know you must have an antidote somewhere. Don't do this. Cure him, Klaus. Don't be the monster they expect you to be." She makes a pause, and then, with a softer tone, she adds, "Please."

Klaus' face twists up into a grimace, and for a second Elijah thinks he's going to yell at her, tell her to stay out of it, but next thing they know, Klaus has vamped away from the courtyard.

Marcel looks at Elijah with a question in his eyes. "Where did he go?"

"To do the right thing, I hope," Caroline says, her back turned to them.

Elijah curbs his own need to comfort her. His brother keeps breaking this girl's trust, time and time again. He wonders how long it'll be until she's had enough of him. Of this family.

For Caroline's sake, he hopes she's right.

 

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"Sit down, Marcellus," Elijah says. "You're driving me insane."

"I can't," he replies, pacing around the courtyard as they wait for Rebekah. She said she was coming up from the dungeons; should be here any minute.

If it were up to him, he would've gone straight there, but Elijah told him to wait. Davina was angry with him, it would be best to let Rebekah deal with it, whatever it was. They still don't know where Klaus fucked off to, what happened to Tim.

"This is too fucking much," he mutters, scratching the back of his neck when they finally hear footsteps.

He freezes, staring at the entrance, Elijah joining him.

Rebekah walks in agonizingly slow steps, carrying a body. Davina's body. _Oh, no._

Marcel rushes to them. "Is she ok?" he asks, taking in Davina's sleeping form. He can hear her heart beating, however slowly. She's alive.

"She's devastated," Rebekah says. "And exhausted. But she'll live."

"What about Tim?"

A second set of footsteps, and then Josh comes in, carrying another body.

"Is he...?"

"Alive," Rebekah says. "Klaus showed up out of nowhere to give him an antidote and his blood, so he'd heal faster. It was close. When Davina passed out, she thought he was already dead."

Marcel lets out a relieved sigh that had been trapped inside of him for hours.

"Niklaus healed him?" Elijah asks, an incredulous hint in his voice.

"I don't know what you said to change his mind–“

"It wasn't me," Marcel cuts Rebekah off, taking Davina from her arms.

The youngest Original's brow furrows in doubt, and she looks at her brother.

"It was Caroline," Elijah provides.

The look of shock on her face is exactly how Marcel feels.

How the hell did that girl convince Klaus to show mercy?

 

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Elijah steps out of his bloodied clothes and stays under the shower spray until the water going down the drain is no longer pink. His skin feels hot and raw, and he can barely see a thing with all the steam, but he doesn't mind. Today has been a long day. His body may heal, but the memory of the drowning in his own blood will stay on for a bit longer. Quite a nasty way to go.

The kind of exhaustion he feels comes not from his muscles, but from something deeper inside of him. From a thousand years of trying and failing to fix Niklaus. The answer to the mystery of how to reach his brother’s cold heart, the one he never seemed to quite unravel... It took long years, impossible hardships and a lot of blood, but he finally has it.

Niklaus' conscience has beautiful blue eyes, is five months pregnant and answers by the melodic name of Caroline Forbes.

In typical Niklaus fashion, he's disappeared from sight after his unexpected show of mercy. If Elijah knows his brother at all, he'll be halfway through a bottle of bourbon by now, more annoyed by the fact he did something good than he would've been if he'd let the boy die. So he decides to go looking for him, find out which hole in the compound he's chosen to hide and wallow in self-pity.

As Elijah passes by the room Davina Claire has occupied, he sees Marcel. The younger vampire hasn't left the girl's side since he brought her up and put her comfortably in her bed, side by side with the boy Timothy. Neither of them has woken up yet, but Marcel hasn't moved a muscle, standing next to the bed like a statue, eyes fixed on the little witch as her chest rises and falls in tandem with her breathing.

Truth be told, Elijah didn't believe Marcel's feelings for Davina were so noble. He thought the sympathy he felt towards her stemmed from the fact he was himself abandoned by his biological family, and then by the family he'd been adopted into. The family that made him what he is. But this... This is love. He was terrified when he thought Klaus would hurt her, enraged when he thought the boy would die. Marcel didn't rest for a second until he was certain Davina would be all right, and not even her turning on him diminished his concern.

He truly cares about her.

"She'll never trust me again," Marcel says all of a sudden, turning his face to Elijah, who had been standing by the door.

He steps into the room, arms crossed in front of his chest. "Perhaps," he concedes. "But you must never surrender the fight to regain that trust."

Marcel is quiet for a spell. "That girl... The witch. How long has Klaus known her?"

"Almost four years, I assume. Since he landed on Mystic Falls seeking to undo the curse our mother placed upon him."

"And they stroke up a romance there?"

"Well, considering she ended up pregnant with his child, I would imagine so, but I wasn't there. Rebekah told me it was more complicated than that. Honestly, I remember very little of Caroline from the brief time I spent in Mystic Falls. When our mother returned from the dead, she threw a ball, invited half the city to it, and Niklaus took Caroline as his date. I remember thinking he seemed quite besotted. Her... Not so much. Then again, ever so often, my brother finds himself a muse. He filled his sketchbooks with her face, her eyes, her hair... I didn't make much of it, then. Niklaus has a passion for beautiful things, but it hardly ever lasts long. She was with Tyler Lockwood at the time."

"Yeah, I heard about it," Marcel says. "He sounded bitter."

"Not without reason, I would say. My brother devastated that boy's life for sport. But he and Caroline had their own issues. It seems he left town for a while and came back with a pretty werewolf girl in tow. It was only after he was gone again that she stopped resisting my brother's advances. I knew he had a soft spot for her, that she delighted him, but... I admit I had no idea his feelings ran so deep until we got here."

"I couldn't reason with him today. Rebekah couldn't reason with him. _You_ couldn't reason with him. But when she asked..." Marcel snaps his fingers. "Klaus has killed people for less than what she said to him today. I've seen your brother have flings. I've even seen him enamored with a couple of them. But I've never seen him like that. Not for anyone."

Elijah's mind pulls him into distant memories. Tatia. Aurora. Different times, and a different Niklaus. One who felt too much, and had his heart broken far too often for it. "I have," he finally replies. "But it was such a long time ago I didn't think I'd ever see it again. I thought that part of Niklaus' heart was dead after centuries of darkness and resentment eating away at him. Somehow... Caroline Forbes brought it back to life."

"How the hell did he ever get a girl like that to care about him? She seems so..."

"Good?" Elijah offers. "Luminous? Just? I've wondered the same thing myself."

Every time Elijah tries to understand how exactly someone like Caroline could ever have feelings for someone as unhinged and amoral as Niklaus, he regrets ever having left Mystic Falls. He wishes he'd been there to see what exactly his brother did to win her affections. It was probably not easy, but it must've been grand. Niklaus has to have done something very right. The only problem is, he now has to live up to it. Caroline has expectations, and meeting them is far from simple for someone like Klaus, who hasn't known what it is to live to please others for nearly a millennium. Suddenly, he finds himself wanting to do better, to prove himself worthy of a girl who is forgiving and accommodating, but has very strict lines about right and wrong.

Niklaus' head must be a beautiful mess right now... More so than usual.

Elijah sees now, with sudden clarity, that his overprotectiveness of that child, how his paranoia has reached its worst levels, verging on complete madness, has nothing to do with the baby's capacity to sire new hybrids or even with a newly found desire for fatherhood.

It's Caroline. It's always been Caroline.

Elijah smiles to himself. As complicated as it all may be, and as much as he might have his own convoluted feelings for her, he finds himself oddly happy for Klaus. There's a lot of work to be done still, a lot of common sense that needs to be knocked into his brother's thick skull. His past is certainly dark, but for the first time in many centuries, Elijah thinks his future doesn't have to be.

"Klaus Mikaelson. In love," Marcel says, himself lost in some distant memory. "Who would've ever guessed?"

"Life's filled with inexplicable mysteries, Marcellus."

"It really is."

His eyes roam quickly around the room, and he's about to leave when something catches his attention. "What are those drawings?" he asks, approaching to inspect a bunch of very big, complex sketches made in black chalk. They seem... Powerful. Angry.

"Davina drew those the whole time she was in the attic," Marcel explains. "But these are different from the ones she did when she sensed magic."

"Different how?"

"She called them _evil_."

Elijah's brows crease together as he flips over the drawings. He can't really put his finger on it, but... There's something about them. Like a message or a clue.

"Can I take them?" he asks. "I'd like to have a better look."

Marcel shrugs. "Sure. Just give them back when you're done."

He piles up all the drawings and leaves Marcellus to his diligent watch of the little witch and her boyfriend. He'll probably have to compel the boy to forget today. Perhaps even more. It will likely be safer for young Timothy to stay away from Davina altogether. The sad fate of humans who dare to approach beings such as them... They inevitably get stuck between a rock and a hard place: either they end up devoid of memories, or devoid of life.

Forgetting all about his plans to chase down Niklaus, Elijah takes the drawings into his own room. Nothing like a good riddle to unwind after a maddening day.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Caroline had a feeling she'd find Klaus languishing in his misery somewhere dramatic.

Good deeds don't come cheaply for him. It's almost as though it physically hurts him to let the world know he still has a human conscience stashed away somewhere. The Original hybrid has a reputation to uphold, can't have anyone thinking Klaus Mikaelson has a _heart_.

Still, Caroline smiles when she sees him cut a lonesome figure on the balcony, nursing a drink while the Casket Girls parade roars out on the street. So typical...

"Enjoying the view?" she asks as she steps out onto the balcony. The sound of music and laughter a deep contrast to the grimness on Klaus' expression.

"Hardly," he replies curtly, lifting the glass to his lips for a sip.

Caroline stops next to him, her hands closing around the railing. "Your sister told me the backstory. You should be proud. This festival is manifest proof of how deeply your family is connected to the city's history."

"I never understood the commotion surrounding the casket girls’ legend. Rebekah turning a mob of lowlife savages into snack seems rather unremarkable to me. She does it every other day."

"You're a guy. That's why you don't get it." Klaus throws her a scornful glance before facing away again. Caroline decides to drop it. "I heard Tim is gonna be ok."

"Yes, well. I would've gained nothing from antagonizing the most powerful witch in the Quarter. Not that she'll feel any sympathy towards me anyway," he says dismissively.

"But at least you didn't kill her boyfriend. I know you think you have to threaten everything you want out of uncooperative people, but you don't always have to take those threats to the last consequences. Davina is not an enemy, Klaus, she's a child, scared and alone. She doesn't act out of hatred, she acts out of self-preservation. I'm sure you can relate."

Klaus lets out an impatient sigh. "Spare me the lecture, Caroline. I'm not in the mood."

 _Such a child_ , she thinks. Klaus is all untouchable and impassive, but the second someone calls him out on his bullshit, he starts pouting and throwing tantrums like a seven-year-old who doesn't get to pick his favorite cereals at the supermarket. Only sometimes people actually end up dead. She wonders if he was always like that, or if it was the excessive power — and Elijah's indulgence — that made him so spoiled.

"If you're going to pull the kind of crap you pulled today, Klaus, then you have to be ready to deal with the consequences. _But_ ," she says, raising her voice above the beginnings of a protest. "That is not why I'm here." She pauses. "You did the right thing tonight. You let your anger get the best of you, but you were kind enough to swallow your pride and take it back."

"You give me far too much credit, love. I only did so you’d sleep well at night."

"Right. Because you're _pure evil_." She rolls her eyes at him. "I didn't believe you then, I certainly don't believe you now. You might tell yourself that these small acts of kindness are all for the sake of someone else, and I believe that these things don't come naturally to you, but you didn't do it _for me_. You did it because you knew it would be wrong. Because you're stubborn, but you _knew_ you'd regret it. You're not as heartless as you want people to think, Klaus."

Klaus' icy gaze flickers toward her with an impassive expression she cannot read. It's one of those nights, and he's in one of those moods, when he distances himself from everyone around him. Caroline's learned enough about him to understand that this is a coping mechanism against overwhelming emotions. When it gets too much, he shuts everyone out and retires into loneliness.

She puts a hand on top of his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You listened to me tonight. For the first time since I got here, I had a glimpse of the guy I felt so..." She stops, eyes flickering away from him for a second as she considers her next words. "So drawn to back in Mystic Falls. That guy was capable of showing mercy, forgiveness and kindness, even towards people who defied him. I wasn't sure if he was still there. Now I know."

Caroline isn't sure what takes over her just then, but before she realizes what she's doing, she's got her arms around Klaus, pulling him into a kind of embrace she doesn't think they've ever shared before. It's not sensual or carnal, it's not about fear or relief either. It's... tender. Warm. Comfortable.

It takes a moment for Klaus to relax into it. He lets out a long exhale, and with it all his hesitation. Klaus' arms slowly take her in, one of his hands on the small of her back. He's gentle, not holding on too tight or pulling her too close, and Caroline smiles when she realizes it's because of the baby. Even so, their bodies seem to fit together perfectly. She closes her eyes, breathes him in, and allows herself to pretend that life can be as easy as this moment; that they can exist in this bubble forever.

"Kindness does not make you weak, Klaus," she murmurs softly. "It makes you stronger. It doesn't always have to be you against the world."

She pulls away slightly, enough to look him in the eye. Still dark and unreadable, but far less menacing than before.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks.

"Do I need a reason?"

"There's always a reason."

"Maybe I just care about you."

He faces away from her again, hiding behind his poker face. "That has never ended well for anyone. Ask Elijah."

She touches his face, cupping his cheek with one of her hands and forcing him to meet her eyes. "It's not up to you to decide."

 

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_"It's not up to you to decide."_

Caroline's voice is soft and wholehearted, but they reach Klaus like an electric discharge. He wonders if she feels it too. It jolts something ancestral awake inside of him, something long forgotten, begging to be brought back from a centuries-old slumber. Something that aches for the fire in Caroline's eyes and for the warmth of her touch.

She has no idea how hard he wishes he could will those feelings away. Klaus was fine before her. More than fine, even. He was arguably better than he'd ever been in his entire life. He was at the height of his might. Virtually indestructible. No one could touch him, and the whole world was laid bare before him, ready for the taking. Klaus could have anything he wanted. Anyone. Anywhere. By some vile twist of fate, however, he found himself wanting the one thing that was repeatedly denied to him: Caroline Forbes' heart.

When she looked at him with a plea in her eyes and begged him to heal the boy, he knew he'd have to do it, even if he deserved to die for Davina Claire to learn a hard lesson. No one challenges Klaus Mikaelson, not even the strongest witch in New Orleans. Death is the most gracious of torments they can get from him, one that is only bestowed upon those who deserve it. In a way, it is a kindness.

Caroline wasn't wrong when she said he'd regret it. He already did, long before she asked him to undo it. The truth is, he didn't want to hurt the boy. Timothy was nothing to Klaus, and he's a rather talented musician. It would be a shame to get rid of such a promising artist. But they forced his hand, called his bluff, and Davina should know better than to play games with someone far older, and far more wicked than she could ever hope to be. Yes, the girl was filled with hatred, her young heart aching with all the broken promises and betrayals. Her mistake was to think she could be his match. She isn't just widely outmatched before him; she's also weaker, inadequate, not nearly as cunning. Klaus is just _more_. When will they learn?

In a war such as the one they're fighting in New Orleans, sacrifices must be made, and if there's one thing Klaus has learned over the exceedingly long course of his life is that victory always goes to those who are willing to walk the extra mile. To do what no one else would. Take Marcellus, for instance. It was his ruthlessness in dealing with the witches that guaranteed his rule went unchallenged — until someone stronger showed up, that is. He has some nerve accusing Klaus of being a _predictable_ monster when he went on for months murdering witches left and right for far less than what Davina has done. Witches such as Jane-Anne Deveraux, slaughtered in public square for performing a passive spell that didn't even affect Marcel or his vampires. And that’s not even mentioning the werewolves. Marcel slaughtered half of them, eliminated entire packs and then cursed the survivors to live in their beastly forms for decades. Some honor, that.

Yes, Klaus would've let the boy die if not for Caroline. But he couldn't bear to see the disappointment in her eyes. The fear. _Don't be the monster they expect you to be_ , she said. _Oh, love... Don't you know I am every bit that monster?_ But something held him back. He could kill an innocent boy, but he couldn't kill the flame inside of Caroline.

Their relationship has been far from harmonious for the past few months. Or rather ever, save for very few short interludes. They argue. They fight. They have monumental disagreements about almost everything. And then, out of the blue, a moment such as this will erupt between them and suddenly everything feels better again. Like not all is lost. Like there's still hope for them. Like he hasn't ruined things completely, and Caroline might yet feel as she once did on a sunny morning in Mystic Falls, little over five months ago.

Klaus remembers every curve on her body. The tiny, faint freckles like a hidden constellation on her shoulders. He remembers the taste of her, the sounds that would escape her rosy lips between his sheets. But more than that, he remembers how she laughed so freely that morning. Her fingers combing through his hair. Her smile against his skin. The pure devious fun of it, their little secret.

He wishes there was a way they could go back to it, but he knows it's impossible. Whatever happens, they'll never be able to feel as free as they did then. If anything then due to the impossible consequences that one torrid night of passion has brought them: the little thing that grows in her womb. The child changed everything. It brought them closer than ever, bound them together for eternity, but in many ways it also pulled them apart, and Klaus has no idea how to go about fixing it.

He almost crushed Caroline's heart tonight, he knows. He's done terrible things, but what he does now that they're living under the same roof, that their lives are forever intertwined because of the child they're having together, matters more. It's all become personal for her. He isn't just someone with whom she can cut ties and never think about again; he's the father of her daughter. And that... Is too big a title, one he's never wanted to carry. Doesn't know how to.

There's a whole new level of expectations for Klaus to live up to, and the truth is... He's terrified. Every day gives him a brand new chance to fail Caroline, their daughter, and even Elijah and Rebekah, whom he's disappointed more times than he can count. Family has always been a complicated matter for him, at once the best part of his world and a thorn on his side. But the Mikaelsons had their own way of dealing with their differences and peculiarities. It's one thing to be among equals, millennia-old vampires with foul tempers and awful track records to speak against them. Now, however... Everything is bordering on the impossible.

Klaus just doesn't know that he can do this and not break Caroline's soul in the process. As afraid as he is to lose her, to let her go, the one thing that scares him the most is that he might turn out to be her ruin. Not another thousand years would be enough to forgive himself.

"Well," she finally speaks again, pulling away from him. His hands itch to hold on to her, his body craving the warmth of hers. But he doesn't move when she steps away. "Good night, Klaus."

She smiles. He tries to, but can't. Instead, he just says, "Good night, sweetheart," and watches as she goes back inside.

 

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Caroline takes a second to compose herself when she goes back inside the house.

For a moment there, while she held his gaze, she thought maybe he would... That they would... Well, it doesn't matter. It's probably for the best. Things are way too complicated right now as it is. Making out isn't gonna fix anything. Not unless they mean more than just that. And... Well.

Suddenly, she is _desperate_ for some Haagen-Dazs.

As she's making her way to the kitchen, she walks right by Elijah's room. The door is open, and she catches a bunch of papers spread across the floor. Curious, Caroline stops.

It's not just papers, it's drawings. Really strange, angry-looking ones. And Elijah is staring intently at them, moving a piece or another this way or that, like someone who tries to put together a puzzle.

"You ok?" she asks, standing by the door.

Elijah looks quickly up at her, flashing a smile. "Better now."

"What's with the artwork?" she asks, stepping inside the room to take a closer look. "I didn't know you liked to draw too."

"They're not mine," he replies, his attention back on the papers. "They're Davina's sketches. I wonder if they represent some kind of premonition."

"Premonition?"

"Marcel said she called them _evil_. They seem to suggest something's coming. Something... sinister."

Elijah starts moving the pieces of paper again, until something finally clicks. Hair, a nose, an eye... He changes the position of a couple more pieces, and suddenly they have a face looking up at them. A beautiful woman that looks faintly familiar. Caroline can swear she's seen her before...

And then it hits her. She lets out a gasp, her eyes widening as a cold shiver runs up her spine. "Oh my God..." she mutters... "Isn't that...?"

"Celeste."

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... give me your thoughts! Really looking forward to seeing what you think of this chapter! Hope you enjoyed the little change I made there in relation to canon. ;) Feedback is very much appreciated! And if you like, you can find me on tumblr @ galvanizedfriend. Thank you for reading!
> 
> And a word to the wise: hold on to the sweet moments, folks, 'cause it's gonna be a ride from here on.


	11. S01E11 Après Moi, Le Déluge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I told you guys to prepare for the bumpy road ahead? This is where it all begins. Don't say you haven't been warned. 
> 
> Big shout out to [coveredinthecolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/pseuds/coveredinthecolors) for her support, awesome beta services and for not hating Elijah so much, surprisingly! Hopefully you guys will agree with her after this chapter (I doubt it lol).
> 
> Any mistakes you might find are my own, and I apologize beforehand. As always, I'd like to thank you guys for your support and lovely messages and feedback. :) You're awesome! Please, keep them coming! Your reviews and messages really make my day, not to mention push me through hours of editing this goddamn monster story. So thank you very much!

_Celeste entrances me. She is perfection._

_She is dead. Even as the sun rises, I see only night._

_But for the promise I made to her that in death I would bury her far from the mayhem of witches, vampires and men..._

Elijah has been talking nonstop for a while, offering what Caroline truly believes are some interesting bits of information about the witches of New Orleans and their history. It's the kind of thing that is really worth paying attention to. Caroline didn't have anybody to teach her about these things growing up, to tell her about covens and different sources of magic and how witch communities from different places live, and she's always been especially curious about New Orleans because of the city's long lasting traditions and folklore. People have been coming here for centuries to bask in this place’s supernatural energy. The Quarter covens are amongst the strongest in the country, if not the world. So when an Original vampire starts sharing first-hand insights, you stop and listen. 

But Caroline has tuned him out ages ago.

As soon as he came into the room with Celeste's picture all taped up in his hand to share his findings and suspicions with her and Klaus, Caroline's mind immediately wandered back to the plantation house, reminiscing over the few words she allowed herself to read on his diaries as she stabbed him in the back and ripped off his heart. Because that's pretty much what she did there. She broke Elijah's trust and he'll never forgive her when he finds out what she did. If they live to get to that part, anyway.

If Davina's premonitions are anything to go by, then something really, really bad is about to happen, and it'll be all Caroline's fault.

She's such a hypocrite. Yelling at Elijah for not respecting her agency and not trusting her to make the right choices for herself; calling Klaus out on his screw-ups left and right and then lecturing him on the importance of right vs wrong while she had just gone behind their backs and possibly brought the apocalypse to their door. And all that because she decided to listen to Sophie Deveraux of all people. Why the hell would she believe a word that witch has to say when she's done nothing but make Caroline's life miserable since the day she kidnapped her from Mystic Falls?

She called Sophie a million times already, barely shut her eyes all night. But of course she’s gone completely off-radar now. She was quick to answer her phone when she wanted something, but now that Caroline needs something in return, she just disappears. Convenient. Does she know about the drawings? Has Sabine been having visions about Celeste too? Do they have any idea what this is about? Is that why they’re trying to consecrate Celeste? If Caroline doesn’t get some answers _fast_ , she’ll lose it.

But the hard truth is... As mad as she is at Sophie — and that's _very_ mad indeed — what's eating away at her is guilt. Sophie didn't put a gun to her head, didn't threaten her life, not this time. It was her choice. She could’ve just said no, but when she weighed her options… Celeste had been dead for 200 years. At this point, she was supposed to be just bones and unconsecrated magic. Caroline didn't think there would be much of a problem. Not in catastrophic proportions, anyway. How the hell was she supposed to know that Davina had been having visions about her for months? 

What she did know, however, is that whatever her excuses, Elijah would be very mad at her. As soon as she got off the phone with Sophie, she told Klaus she wanted to go back to the plantation house to get some clothes and other stuff she'd left behind when they moved to the compound in a hurry. She thought it would be harder to convince him, but he was happy to let her go — with the condition that she took two of his stupid sentinels with her. Later she discovered the real reason why he was so accommodating, of course. He wanted her away from the Quarter while he plotted to kill Davina and her boyfriend.

It wasn't hard to distract her two shadows once they got to the plantation, and it took her no time to find what she needed. She knew exactly where it was. Her first couple of months in New Orleans were spent basically reading Elijah's old journals. When he pulled her into his memories in the Bayou, she instantly knew who Celeste was. Caroline hadn't paid much attention to the parts where she was mentioned, but she'd seen her name several times over, which was enough to tell her she was someone important. She was snooping through Elijah’s personal things, but she _tried_ to respect the most personal parts of his writings, if that's even possible. She wanted to read about their trip to America, about their lives 300 years in the past, about Klaus; not about Elijah's romantic endeavors.

Still. Nothing changes the fact that the only reason she knew where to find the information Sophie needed at all was because she'd gone through Elijah's things without strictly asking for permission, and she used that knowledge to make a deal with a backstabbing witch — again, without asking for permission. And as soon as she saw Celeste's beautiful face come together in Davina's sketches, the brief sentences she read while searching the location where he'd buried her came back to the forefront of Caroline's mind with brutal clarity.

_Celeste entrances me. She is perfection._

_She is dead. Even as the sun rises, I see only night._

_But for the promise I made to her that in death I would bury her far from the mayhem of witches, vampires and men._

Elijah buried her between two oak saplings, an inconspicuous enough location that no one would ever suspect. Caroline doesn't know the details, doesn't know why, but Elijah promised something to Celeste, and if what she wanted was to stay away from supernatural shenanigans in her afterlife, then, well... Caroline just ruined it for her.

Elijah's gonna be so, so mad when he finds out...

She has been trying to tell him all morning, waiting for an appropriate moment, but there never seems to be one.

"Caroline."

Is there a right way to tell someone that you betrayed their trust and accidentally put in motion–

"Caroline?"

"Huh?" She snaps out of her trance to find Elijah staring at her. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was just asking if you know anything about ancestral magic. It's what anchors the witches of this city, and I don't think there's ever been an all-powerful witch before, until Davina."

"Who is now tucked in, safe and sound down the hall, under my protection," Klaus says, walking back into the room. Caroline didn't even see him leave. "Your Celeste was quite beautiful," he says, taking a good look at the sketch. "And a portent of evil, according to our volatile artist in residence," he adds, grinning at his brother.

"Perhaps Davina has mistaken what she calls evil for power. Celeste was quite powerful in her day, but she has been dead for 200 years. I don't understand why all these sketches now."

Caroline swallows down hard.

"Why does any witch do anything? Care to enlighten us, love?" Klaus muses, smirking at Caroline. It is so very ironic that the one day Klaus decided to wake up in a good mood is precisely when Caroline feels so sullen.

"To annoy entitled vampires, of course," she sneers. Klaus chuckles, amused, and Caroline can't help but return the smile. 

Their little moment of banter is interrupted by the sound of glass breaking somewhere down the hall.

"Well, Marcel's attempt at making peace with Davina is going superbly," Klaus says with a sigh. 

"If you aimed to win the girl's trust, perhaps poisoning her one true love was not the most splendid idea," Elijah offers, sitting down on the chair opposite from Caroline.

"But I healed him."

"Not before nearly killing him."

"Oh. Well. Are there any more inopportune incidents you'd like to wave in my face? Now's a good time," Klaus says, motioning his hand vaguely in a _be my guest_ sort of gesture.

"Give me a month," Elijah smirks. "I'll get you a list."

"I can offer a few items," Caroline adds.

Klaus narrows his eyes at her. She shrugs. And then more glass breaks, followed by something considerably heavier smashing against the wall. She's using magic to attack Marcel, Caroline can sense it.

Klaus groans in annoyance, probably starting to worry that some of his precious belongings might get destroyed by Davina's wrath. "Young, old, dead, alive or pregnant with my child — witches certainly enjoy causing me trouble."

Caroline shakes her head as he leaves them to go check on Marcel's progress. "Does he even realize how offensive he is with these comments?"

"He probably doesn't even remember you're a witch most of the time, to be honest."

"That's even worse. Will I have to start smashing things with my mind for him to show some respect?"

A lopsided grin twists the corner of Elijah's lips. "I wouldn't oppose to that."

Elijah becomes easily distracted with the picture again, his eyes distant and soft as he looks at Celeste's face. It brings a sour taste to Caroline's mouth.

It's just the two of them. There will never a good time. He deserves to know the full story.

"Elijah?"

"Hmm?"

She hasn't even said anything yet and already she can feel her throat start to close, her palms becoming slick and her tongue drying up. How could this possibly go wrong? "There's something you need to know."

He turns his full attention to her, and Caroline has to look away. When she finally opens her mouth to confess, however, the house starts shaking. Like _really_ shaking.

It's a slow rumble at first, as though someone is drilling the floor close by, and then it grows into a full-on earthquake. The whole construction trembles as though the roof is about to fall over their heads.

"What the hell?!" Caroline yells, holding on to her chair like that's gonna help.

Elijah takes her hand. "Come on." He whooshes her away in vampire speed, taking her to the courtyard, where the rest of the vampires have all gathered. They seem to be better at keeping their balance with the floor shaking underneath them than Caroline. She has to keep a hold on Elijah's arm to keep from falling, her head getting all fuzzy. 

"What is going on here?!" Rebekah asks, coming to join them. 

Klaus appears on the second floor walkway, a concerned crease between his eyebrows. "It's Davina."

 

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"This is madness. How can a sixteen-year-old girl shake the entire French Quarter?" Klaus inquires.

His brother, who had been in such an uncharacteristic blithe mood just his morning, now seems taken with apprehension. He says Davina was coughing up dirt right before the earthquake started. It wasn't like the tantrums she'd been throwing earlier; it was something much bigger. Beyond her control.

This makes Elijah think it has to be somehow related to the picture of Celeste. Witches don't start spitting dirt and causing massive earthquakes out of nowhere.

"I've seen her rock the church, but I've never seen anything like this," Marcel says.

"How did you control her while she was in the attic?" Klaus asks.

"I never had to. But then I never tried to kill her and her boyfriend," Marcel retorts with a bite.

"Yes, we've been over this part already," Klaus grunts impatiently. "The point is, in her present state, she's useless as a tool against the witches."

"She's not a tool," Marcel snaps. "Something's wrong with her. She's not doing this on purpose."

"She has too much power that she cannot control. That much we already knew," Elijah muses. "The question is, why is it manifesting itself in such an aggressive manner?"

All three men stay quiet as they ponder over the situation, but Elijah knows this is useless. They'll never find the answers to this here, amongst themselves. 

"Where are you going?" Klaus asks as he walks by his brother, towards the door.

"This is witch business. Let's ask a witch."

He finds one right outside the room, leaning against the railing, wringing her hands nervously. As soon as she sees him, she stands up straight.

"I don't know anything about this," Caroline says. "My magic doesn't work like theirs."

"I wasn't thinking about you."

"Oh. You're going to see Sophie."

"Caroline, you don't have to hide behind doors and eavesdrop. We're not keeping anything from you."

"I know."

She seems... Strange. Skittish. Awkwardly not meeting his eyes. "Is everything ok?" he asks, wondering if maybe the earthquake left her feeling unwell.

She hesitates. "I don't want to keep anything from you either. If you're going to see Sophie, there's something you have to know."

Caroline starts walking down the hall, wringing her hands again, and Elijah follows. "Sophie called me yesterday, asking for a favor," she starts, her back turned to him as she speaks. "She said her bloodline is the only one that can undo the curse Marcel placed on the werewolves and she promised to help them if I helped her get a little bit of information. I didn't think much of it at the time, I thought it was kind of random, actually. But then Davina's pictures and now that–"

"Caroline," Elijah says, waiting until she's looking at him to continue. "Whatever it is, just tell me."

"Sophie wanted to find Celeste's remains," she blurts out. "So I went through your journals and I found out where you buried her and I... told her."

It takes Elijah a second to process exactly what she just said. And then he feels something settling deep inside of him, like an anchor dropping.

Whatever he thought she was about to tell him, it never crossed his mind, not for a single second, that it might be... That.

"I know, it was a terrible thing to do, and it was snoopy and totally inappropriate and I should've asked you first," she speaks in a hurry, her voice sounding airy and on the edge of being choked by tears.

This, he reckons, is one of those typical moments where Niklaus would explode in anger. Yell. Rage. And perhaps that would be the appropriate reaction. The best reaction. To be consumed by a fury that burns out as fast as it comes. Instead, Elijah feels... Sad. Impossibly sad. And disappointed. A dull pang in his chest that cuts deeper than any violence ever could.

From all the people he thought would betray his trust like this, Caroline was definitely the last. 

"Please, say something," Caroline says, her voice pitched low in a plea. "Please."

His eyes flicker away from her.

"She wanted to be left in peace," he says at last. Perhaps she already knows this, if she went through his journals. Elijah figured that was a possibility, since he left them quite unprotected at the house. They were so old, he hardly remembers half of what he wrote there. He could excuse her giving in to curiosity and reading through them, wouldn't even mind it so much. At this point, his writings from two centuries ago are less personal confessions than historical records. He just... Never thought her capable of using that knowledge in such a manner. "Celeste did not want her remains to be found because she didn't want to be consecrated. She made me promise to bury her where she would not be found."

Tears brim in Caroline's eyes, and Elijah can see how truly sorry she is. But he's too hurt to offer her any consolation.

"You not only violated my privacy, you have broken my promise to her."

"I... Didn't know. I wasn't thinking," she shakes her head, snapping her mouth back when she's unable to speak any more without crying.

"If that is indeed true, why didn't you just ask me where to find her?" Elijah's voice comes out brittle as sand, and before he can allow himself to become riled, he stalks off.

He can't be thinking of this, not right now. Not when the city is shaking.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"I'm here," Rebekah says as she joins her brothers. 

Elijah knocked on her door and said _Study room_. When she asked what it was about, he merely replied with an impatient _Now_. She gets it's probably about Davina, since the little witch seems to have woken up with an earth-shattering mood this morning, quite literally. But would it hurt Elijah to be less grumpy?

Sophie Deveraux is there, which she guesses is to be expected. Not even noon yet and Nik is already nursing a drink, but for once the darker clouds in the room do not seem to be hovering above his head. It's Elijah who's got a face like he ate something rotten. In comparison, Nik's almost in a jolly mood. Now, that is something you don't see every day in this house, she thinks.

"Where's Caroline?" she asks as she takes a seat on a chaise longue. "I thought this was a family meeting?"

"So Sophie," Elijah starts, completely ignoring Rebekah's question. _Interesting_ , she thinks, while exchanging a cryptic glance with Klaus before turning her attention back to the pressing issue at hand. "You have stolen the remains of the very person Davina's been drawing for months. Would you care to explain the startling coincidence?"

"I can't," Sophie shrugs, staring at the picture of Celeste with a mildly surprised expression. "I didn't even know who Celeste Dubois was until I–" Her explanations are interrupted by the beginning of another violent shake. Davina screams a few rooms down the hall and then the entire house starts quaking.

Elijah sighs, Rebekah curses mildly under her breath and Klaus merely takes his glass off the bar before it could fall off, knocking back the rest of his drink with an air of infinite patience.

It takes less than thirty seconds, but Rebekah knows it's enough to have caused destruction around the house.

"Was that Davina?" Sophie asks once the earthquake stops.

"Charming little habit she's developed," Klaus replies.

"And the earthquake I felt today?"

"Also Davina," Rebekah says. "And she's taken to vomiting dirt, too."

Sophie's expression goes from horrified to somber as she seems to figure something out. "Oh, no. We have a huge problem. I thought we had more time, but we need to complete the Harvest now."

"Said the desperate witch, conveniently," Klaus quips.

"I'm serious. That earthquake you just felt? A preview of the disaster movie that's about to hit us."

"Why should we believe you?" Elijah asks.

"You know Davina's story. For months now, she's been holding all the power of the three girls sacrificed in the Harvest ritual, a force that was meant to flow _through_ her and then back into the earth. One person was never meant to hold that much power. It's tearing her apart, and it'll take us down with it."

Rebekah exchanges another look with Nik, who's suddenly gone serious at the edge of despair on the witch's voice. They have no warm feelings for Sophie Deveraux, but for some reason it does not feel like this is something she would be lying about. Not when the entire city seems to be crumbling along with Davina's deteriorating condition. Perhaps the stress of a near-death experience, sponsored by her dear brother, served as a catalyst for what's happening now. Davina had never used so much of her powers as she did in the last few days. Either way, _something_ is happening to her, and for once it does not look like the witches are the ones causing it.

"You're going to have to be more specific than that," Elijah says.

"As Davina self-destructs, she'll cycle through four stages that represent the four elements that bound together the Harvest. The dirt and the earthquakes were stage one, earth. The lightest of the four."

"Lightest?" Rebekah scoffs. "I lost a 200 years old crystal mirror from Bavaria this morning. The house was shaking like a twig in a storm."

"Yes, and each stage will be more intense than the last."

"Isn't that splendid?" Klaus quips, pouring himself another drink. "What's next?"

"Next is wind," Sophie continues. "She'll blow the roof off this place. You might wanna prepare. And after the wind, comes water. Rain, flood..."

"How bad?"

"Really bad. But it gets worse. The last stage is fire, and since it's also the final stage, it'll be by far the worst."

"She's going to burst into spontaneous combustion?" Rebekah asks.

Sophie gives her a hard look. "She's gonna burn the city to the ground with her."

"And the only way to stop this..."

"Is to complete the Harvest and let the power inside of her flow its course."

"You mean kill her," Rebekah says, standing to her feet. "You want to slit that poor girl's throat."

"She'll be resurrected."

"As will the other three witches, I assume. One of which just happens to be your niece. So it's not like you have any personal interests involved or anything."

"Yes, Monique was one of the Harvest girls and yes, I want her back. But I'm not lying. Davina will die anyway if you let this go on. But if we complete the ritual and Monique returns, then so will she."

"Well, consider me intrigued," Klaus announces, putting his glass down with a thud and standing to his feet. "I have some precautions to take." 

As one of her brother stalks off, the other closes in on Sophie, his arms carefully folded across his chest, his dark eyes pinning her under the full strength of his stare. The witch stands her ground, even though Rebekah can hear her heartbeat quickening. She's got balls, Sophie Deveraux, Rebekah will give her that.

"You have convinced Niklaus, but you're yet to convince me," Elijah speaks in a slow, clipped tone.

"We don't have time to waste, Elijah," Sophie answers. "The first sign has already come and gone."

"So fix her," Rebekah says.

"She can't be fixed," Sophie retorts, clearly starting to get impatient. "She can't be saved. This will not stop at the earth sign, and if you wait it out, you immortals will be the only ones left to argue about. Something tells me you might be concerned about the well-being of a certain witch and her unborn child," she says, fixing her stare back at Elijah. "There's no time to get Caroline far enough away from here. If we don't do this, she'll die along with the rest of us."

Rebekah could point out to Sophie that if anything happens to her niece, it'll be all her fault, seeing that she's the only reason Caroline's in New Orleans at all. If it wasn't for her little failed ploy, Caroline would've stayed in Mystic Falls, Klaus would've probably never left either and Rebekah would be in Europe with Matt rather than stuck here, reminiscing over things that happened a hundred years ago. Everyone would be much happier, including Elijah, whose mood seems to have soured completely.

Before she has a chance to do it, however, a violent wind sweeps in, banging all the windows, sending the curtains flying and taking down what the earthquake couldn't. 

"What the bloody hell?!" she curses as she turns her face away.

As suddenly as it started, though, it stops.

"Convinced now?" Sophie practically spits out, giving both of them a hard look.

Rebekah wants nothing more than to have a perfectly good answer to give to the witch and shut her down, but... She's got nothing.

"I'll go check on Davina," she says, walking out of the room. 

Elijah might need another minute to be persuaded, but she's very much convinced.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Caroline comes out of hiding to inspect the damage of the winds in the courtyard just as Klaus is returning from whatever it is that he went out to do. She starts towards him, opening her mouth to talk about Davina, when she sees Elijah is right behind him and stops dead on her track.

"There you are," Klaus says, pulling up a heavy iron chair that probably landed some distance away from where it originally stood. "How is she?"

"Sedated," she replies, a little distracted, her eyes still on Elijah while she waits to make eye contact. But he refuses to look her way. "Heavily sedated."

"Well, if this is her sedated, I'd hate to see her otherwise. We all agreed that Davina must be sacrificed and I'd rather not let her blow the roof off our heads in the meantime."

"I didn't agree with that," Caroline counters.

"Well, unfortunately love, you've been outvoted. There is no other option."

"No way!" They hear Marcel before they see him jumping from the second floor straight into the courtyard. "You're not touching her!" he grunts, his fist flying into Klaus' face before he can move out of the way.

Caroline gasps as the hybrid drops to the floor, holding his jaw. _Well, that’s all we needed_ , she thinks, sensing the beginning of yet another bloody fight. Like the earthquake and the winds hadn’t caused enough damage to the house already and they weren’t in over the heads with problems. But instead of looking angry and out for Marcel's blood, Klaus laughs. _Laughs_.

Caroline blinks at him like she’s looking at a stranger. How can he be in such a light mood when the whole city is about to blow up? 

"Ok," he says, wiping a trace of blood off the corner of his mouth. "I'll let you have that one."

As Marcel charges for him again, Elijah gets in the way, pushing him back with one hand.

"Marcel, no one wishes to see Davina come to harm less than I, but there is no scenario in which we simply wait this out," he says. And then, after a pause, he adds, in a gentler tone, "She's going to die."

"Says Sophie, the witch who screwed over everybody here," Marcel shoots back.

"The Harvest was working before it was stopped. If a non-believer like Sophie Deveraux can come to have faith that these girls will be resurrected, then I, also, am a believer."

Marcel turns to her, then, his handsome face twisted with grief. "You're a witch," he says. "What do you have to say?"

Caroline falters. "I..."

"You don't have an opinion on your people murdering a teenage girl?"

"They're not... I mean... I..." 

"Leave her alone, Marcel. They're not her people," Elijah says, rather calmly, but still not looking at her. His eyes firmly on the ground the whole time. She feels a pang in her heart.

"And what if it was her then?" Marcel asks, gesticulating while he turns from Elijah to Klaus. "What if they wanted to sacrifice her? What if they told you that _she_ ," he points at her, "had to die for some miracle to happen — would either of you let it happen? Would you, Klaus?"

"Caroline's not the one in question here, mate," Klaus says, suddenly a lot more solemn than he seemed a moment before.

Marcel huffs out a sardonic laugh. "Exactly. If it was, we wouldn't be having this conversation because you wouldn't let it happen. There would be no reasonable explanation to convince you — _either_ of you — to trust those witches with the life of someone you love."

Klaus turns to her, a little sad, and then he looks away. 

Caroline takes a step closer to Marcel. "Look," she starts. "I don't trust them either. I regret ever listening to anything Sophie had to say. Putting her or anyone else's needs ahead of someone you care for... It feels like betrayal. I get how you're feeling, Marcel. Believe me." She sends a quick glance toward Elijah, half-hoping that what she just said would register somewhere on his stance, but he remains blank and quiet, and pointedly ignoring her. "But Davina is suffering," she continues, focusing on the distraught man in front of her. "Me being a witch doesn't mean I have any understanding of the dealings of the New Orleans covens, but I know enough to understand magic when I see it. This _is_ tearing her apart. Since the first day I heard of her, I couldn't figure out how it was possible for one single person to hold so much power, enough to control an entire city. No human was built for that. Sophie had ulterior motives behind everything she's done since I got here, and she's desperate and definitely dangerous, but I don't think she's inherently bad. You know her better than I do. I think it's smart not to trust her, but... I believe she's being honest. She wouldn't just send an innocent girl to her death if she didn't believe the ritual is real and that Davina, and the other girls, will be brought back to life.

"And as for it being me... It has been. And it has been friends of mine. People I care about. Where I come from, people were sacrificing themselves every other week, because we didn't know any other way. I would be terrified, just like Davina is. And he would certainly throw a tantrum," she motions towards Klaus. "Just like you are. And that's good. Because it means you care, and that girl needs that, Marcel. She needs someone to fight for her, and to stay by her side, and to be here when she comes back from the dead. She doesn't wanna die, and I wouldn't either. But to save an entire city, if that was the only way? I would do it. And I think Davina will too."

Marcel goes quiet for a long time, his eyes filled with pain and sparkling with tears. The way Klaus talks about him, you'd think he was the devil. But even though she hardly knows him, and even though he can certainly be insufferable at times, Caroline realizes Marcel is not a bad guy at all. Misguided, perhaps, a little too full of himself, with an ego the size of the world that leaves no doubt as to who he was raised by. But he's got his heart in the right place. He's trying to do the right thing for someone he's grown to love as though she were his own blood.

"I saved her from the Harvest," he speaks after a moment, his voice tearing on a sob. "I can't just hand her over like this. I'm supposed to _protect_ her."

"Marcel, do you think I'm happy about this?" Klaus says. "If the witches complete the Harvest, not only do they regain their power, we lose our weapon against them." Caroline holds back a grunt, glaring at the father of her child and his complete lack of human empathy. Marcel is heartbroken over the prospect of letting the witches hurt Davina and he's talking about a _weapon_. "The earthquake I was willing to chalk up to hideous coincidence, but these winds? If Davina is not sacrificed, then every inch of earth that shook, everything blowing about now, will soon be drenched in water and consumed by fire."

"So now you're worried about the city," Marcel retorts dryly.

"We ought to. We built it," Elijah remarks.

"And we all saw it burnt to the ground. Twice. I will not let that happen again. Do I make myself clear?"

Marcel's eyes flicker with something hot and fierce, his upper lip curling. "Yeah." And then he stalks off.

As soon as he's gone, Caroline slaps Klaus' shoulder. "Really? I almost got through to him."

"Not a people's person, are you, Niklaus?" 

"Nonsense. I love people." Elijah snorts. Caroline lets out a loud _huh!_. Klaus doesn't look offended in the least. "As a matter of fact, just on my way to warn a couple of prominent ones in case the weather gets out of hand."

"Soon Sophie Deveraux shall be consecrating Celeste's remains, and though her actions are reprehensible." Caroline winces inwardly, trying to keep the sting off her face. "I still should pay my respects."

"Hey, Elijah," she starts, moving toward him. "If you have a minute, before you go -"

"Just on my way out."

He doesn't even spare her a glance before he's out the door. 

That's it, then. Elijah hates her and he'll never speak to her, ever again. She's broken the trust of the one person who's always had her back since she was brought to his place against her will. Not even Klaus has taken her side as fiercely and unconditionally as Elijah. She owed him the same kind of loyalty and respect he offered her and instead she chose to betray his trust to aid Sophie Deveraux in exchange of something completely uncertain.

Klaus narrows his eyes questioningly at her. 

"Never mind," she mutters, turning around and walking away hurriedly.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

They should've known better than to leave Marcellus alone with the little witch. To expect rationality of him at this point was naive at best. It was quite obvious he was not thinking clearly and Klaus, more than anyone, should've realized that he was not to be trusted anywhere near Davina. A flood of biblical proportions about to hit New Orleans and all he cares about is that girl.

Not that Klaus had a lot to argue with when Marcel mentioned he'd do the exact same thing if it was Caroline instead of Davina. But that's beside the point. They need to complete the bloody Harvest ritual or it won't matter if it's Caroline or Davina, because both of them will be dead.

Now they're running out of time, the winds are becoming more violent and they have no idea where Marcel has run off to with the girl.

Elijah's at the cemetery with the witches while Celeste Dubois' body is being consecrated, Rebekah has gone to look in the Quarter and he's off to see the priest. He doubts Marcel would take Davina back to the attic, but in any case, Father Kieran has an efficient human network working for him. Someone might've seen something. It's doubtful Marcel would try to take the girl out of town, considering her situation. There's not enough time to seek help elsewhere, so his only hope would be to find refuge somewhere within the Crescent City.

Just as he's about to leave, however, the lights go off. Just what they needed. Night has fallen and now they have no power. Like the situation wasn't dire enough.

Good thing they have so many old chandeliers, then. Klaus instructs the vampires on where to find candles and matches and tells them to go about securing the windows and preparing for the rain. And then it hits him that, while everyone has been running up and down the house and around the city, _someone_ has been unusually quiet.

The Caroline he knows would be right in the eye of the storm now, offering to help against all sorts of protests. Klaus let it go because he thought it was for the best that she stayed out of it for once, but now that he thinks about it... This isn't normal. It's ironic that he almost misses the nosy, in-his-face Caroline driving him insane with how _proactive_ she is about everything, including running straight towards danger. She would've been the first to offer to perform a locator a spell to try and find Davina now. Instead, she hasn't showed her face.

If he had to guess, he'd say her atypical behavior is intrinsically related to Elijah's atypically testy mood.

Klaus noticed something off with his brother all day, but passed it off as being about Celeste and the unearthing of old memories of his lover's tragic death. But his rude dismiss of Caroline earlier told Klaus everything he needed to know about the real reason behind Elijah's pout. Something happened that they're not telling him. 

It makes him wonder what Caroline could have possibly done to make Elijah so upset, considering his brother's forgiving disposition.

Perhaps it's the impending doom looming over their heads and the fact his list of priorities has grown considerably larger since this morning, but Klaus feels he's not as bothered about the situation as he probably should be. Right now, he'd say he's mostly curious and cautiously concerned. His _moment_ with Caroline the night before put him in an oddly bright mood. He spent most of the night awake, painting. Painting is the perfect outlet for his aggression, allowing him a measure of control over his own convoluted emotions, and his muse had never been quite so inspired since his return to the city. 

Given a bit more time, however, if things don't sort themselves out in due time, he's certain he'll get to the appropriate level of bitterness regarding this new development in his brother's relationship with the mother of his child.

For now, however, there are far more pressing issues at hand. 

He finds Caroline all alone in the dark pantry, filling a cardboard box with food off their shelves.

"What are you doing?" 

She startles when she hears his voice, taking a sobby breath and wiping her eyes with the back of her hands.

She was crying.

"I was gonna take these to the–"

"If you say Bayou, I will find a nice, comfy dungeon and throw you in it," he says in as gentle a manner as he possibly could, approaching her. She avoids his gaze, but he can see her eyes are red and thick with misery even under the poor light. Suddenly, he wants very much to punch Elijah. "This is not the night to be out there."

"For anyone," she counters. "But some people don't have a choice."

He bites on his lower lip, already cursing himself mentally for what he's about to do. There's a storm on the way and the last thing he should do is take Caroline out of the house, where she'll be safe, warm and dry. But he should learn from his mistakes. Leaving Marcel unsupervised is what got them in this mess, and he knows she'll just take a car and drive herself to the swamp the second he turns his back on her. 

"Right," he says, grabbing one of the boxes. "Grab that other box and come with me."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

She thought Klaus was giving her a lift to the Bayou, but it turns out he was taking her to the church.

"Why are we here?" she asks as he parks his car right outside the decrepit church. Even though it's on the old part of the French Quarter, it looks nothing like the well-kept historical buildings all over the neighborhood. Graffiti on the walls, shutters on the windows and everything. A bronze plate on the outside says St. Anne's Church. So this is the famous church where Davina was kept for months. Caroline can see why she was so bitter. She would be too if someone kept her locked up in a place like this for months.

"Just follow me," Klaus says, grabbing the box and rushing inside. Ominous looking dark clouds loom above as far as the eye can see. The storm will hit any second now, and it won't be pretty.

She had no idea what to expect of his trip to the church, but it was definitely not _this_.

Although it looks almost abandoned from the outside, the church is packed with people. Some in sleeping bags on the floor, some still up and awake spread across the several benches. Candles all over the place offer poor lighting, but it helps to keep the church warm.

"Klaus." She turns towards the voice and finds the priest approaching them. The man takes the box off his hands. "We still haven't gotten through all that you already provided."

"This newest bit isn't from me." 

Klaus nods his head towards Caroline, standing a few feet behind, still slightly taken aback and trying to understand just exactly what she’s seeing here. The priest, a man in his late forties or early fifties who looks mildly familiar, smiles warmly at her. "That's very kind of you..."

"Caroline," she offers.

The priest makes a silent _oh_. "The famous Caroline."

Caroline blinks, glancing at Klaus, who merely shrugs. "And... Who are all these people?" she asks.

"I asked Father Kieran to give them shelter. He suffers from an incessant desire to do good," Klaus explains. He must be the priest in charge of the human faction Klaus mentioned a while back. "But I need you to be useful in a different manner now, Father. Marcel and Davina are nowhere to be found. I assume by the stupefied look on your face they haven't sought refuge in your attic."

Kieran shakes his head. "Those days are gone."

"Then energize your resources. I don't need to remind you how important it is that they be found."

"Yeah. I'll see what I can do. Thank you for the donations," he says, taking Caroline's box as well before walking away.

She lets her eyes wander about the place. There's something strange about these people. She can't really place them, but she could swear there’s something recognizable about them. Then it finally downs on her. 

"These people," she starts, turning back to Klaus. "They're werewolves, aren't they? You're helping them?"

"They're not the same werewolves who rescued you. Those are trapped in their wolf forms and probably safer than all of us in the Bayou. These are the ones who couldn't find shelter. Another part of my clan, so to speak. They've fallen upon hard times and their plight has brought out the philanthropist in me." His lips tug up into an ironic little grin. "What can I say? Must be Elijah's influence."

Caroline is... stunned. Klaus went out to the Bayou and found a way to have the werewolf packs who did not have where to stay all brought into the city and safely taken in by Father Kieran. That's what he was talking about when he said there were some _prominent_ people he had to warn regarding the weather. And nobody had to say anything or guilt him into doing it. He did it all on his own. She's... Honestly, shocked. That's the kind of altruistic behavior she'd expect from almost everyone else _but_ him.

It's... Kind. Thoughtful. Incredibly considerate. _Humane._

Caroline feels warmth spreading inside her chest, is taken by a fervent desire to hug him again.

But then another part of what he just said strikes her.

"Wait. Did you just say part of your clan?" she asks, eyebrows bunched in confusion. "I was right about them?"

"The blood that runs in their veins runs in mine," Klaus says, with an uncharacteristic softness in his voice. "And in our child's."

Now, _that_ is certainly something.

All these people in this crowded church are somehow related to her baby. They are long distant descendants from Klaus' father's pack, from a thousand years ago. So, technically, they're her daughter’s family too. 

Her baby has a _pack_.

That is... overwhelming, to say the least.

"This is going to be the most complicated family tree assignment anyone's ever seen," she mutters. 

Klaus smiles. She doesn't know nearly enough about the Mikaelson history as she would like to, but she knows Klaus' heritage is the source of some serious personal issues. Even though his siblings never looked down on him for it, the fact they did not share the same father, and that Mikael reserved an especially vicious kind of hatred for his _bastard_ son, has left deep marks in him. Things he struggles to overcome to this day, a thousand years later. Whenever his siblings become enraged with him, even rightfully so, the first thing that comes out of his mouth is _What has the bastard done this time_. Klaus thinks everything that is wrong with him stems from him not having been raised by a loving father. Caroline would disagree, but she can only imagine the kind of horrors he must've endured at the hands of Mikael growing up. It doesn't justify the horrors he's subjected other people to since then, but still. The trauma is very much a part of him. And she can definitely relate to that.

To find out that he's connected to this whole pack of werewolves, all those years later... He must've been thrilled. If he went out of his way just to assure they'd be safe during the storm — he obviously cares about it, a lot more than he cares about almost everything. And yet Klaus never said a thing. 

That's exactly the kind of thing Caroline wishes he would talk to her about. She wonders briefly if he ever spoke to Cami about his newfound family in one of their weird sessions and feels a dull twinge of bitterness, but it's gone almost as quick as it comes. The news are bigger than whatever jealousy she might feel. She can save her complaints for later. 

When this is all over, if they make it out of this apocalypse alive, she's gonna ask about his family. They're having a baby together and she still knows so little about his past. Sure, there's _a lot_ of past there, but still. She wants to know him. To know _everything_ about him. Especially the things he clearly holds close to his heart. 

If, after everything they've been through so far, Klaus still can't trust her with the important things... Well. What have they been doing here all this time?

Then again… The fact he brought her here tonight when he hasn’t said a word to anyone else must mean something. In his own way, he’s opening up about it. He just… Needs to work better on how he delivers his messages. Actual words might be good from time to time.

"Listen, Caroline," he says, pulling her out of thoughts and back to the church. "Both you and Elijah have been very upset all day. What happened?"

Well, fuck.

Just when she finally managed to get her mind off her quarrel with Elijah and think about more positive things, Klaus brings it all back. 

She looks away from Klaus. "I did something. Something bad."

"Somehow I find that hard to believe."

"I broke his trust and made him break a vow to someone he loved very much."

“Celeste?”

Caroline swallows, her jaw set, but she doesn’t reply. It’s not that she doesn’t want to tell him, but she’s revealed enough of Elijah’s secrets to other people. It’s not her story to tell. Too bad she’s only fully realized that now.

She was half-expecting Klaus to act up, get mad and jealous as he normally does. Instead, he just says, "Word of advice on dealing with Elijah. Don't do as I do. Just apologize. He's accomplished in many things but he's a master at forgiveness. I'm sure he'll forgive you for anything."

Caroline stares after him, bewildered by his sudden reasonable and kind-hearted behavior for the second time in less than five minutes. Is it possible that Klaus actually _listened_ to what she said to him last night? Heeded her advice? 

"Come on," he continues, gesturing towards the door. "Let's get you back home before we get stranded here once the rain starts."

Just her luck to have this many breakthroughs right when the world is about to end.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Bad news never start piling up.

When Klaus returns to the compound with Caroline, both Elijah and Rebekah have already returned. His sister has no clue of Marcel’s whereabouts, and Elijah has even worse news.

"The consecration didn't work," he starts once they all gather in the living room on the second floor. Winds are raging outside and every time a lightning strikes close, Caroline flinches, clutching her belly tightly. She's been putting a good front so far, but she's terrified. If he wasn't yet certain that he must do absolutely anything in his power to stop this madness, than he is now. "It appears someone had already gotten to Celeste's remains."

"How's that possible?" Rebekah asks.

"I'm not sure myself. The important thing right now is, we need another powerful witch whose bones have never been consecrated."

Elijah's face is a mask of resignation, but the look in his eyes is hard. It takes Klaus but a second to understand what he means. 

He’s thinking of Esther.

"It's taken 1000 years, but you've finally gone mad," their sister says, getting to the same conclusion.

"This is our only choice at the moment," Elijah argues.

"Our own mother, Elijah? Honestly?"

"Yes, our beloved mother," he speaks around a sigh. "Who Niklaus affectionately placed in a coffin in his basement, not daggered, but quite dead. Exactly as we need her to be."

"Wait. Esther's still inside that coffin?" Caroline asks, sending a mildly horrified look at Klaus.

He shrugs nonchalantly. "She did try to kill us all."

She scrunches up her nose. "Creep."

"I say we put it to use and put her to rest, once and for all," Elijah continues. "Now, if we bury our mother on land owned by one of her descendants, she becomes a New Orleans witch, and we, as her family, share in that ancestral magic."

"We can't practice magic, Elijah. Or own property for that matter," Rebekah remarks.

"Yes, with regards to practicing magic. After mother is buried, we can channel her power to another witch. In this case, Sophie Deveraux, who'll then become in charge of performing the Harvest ritual. The only problem is, as conduits of Esther's magic, we'll need to participate in the Harvest. As for owning property..." Elijah turns around and fetches a folder, pulling out an official looking paper. "Not all of our mother's descendants are dead."

_Of course_.

All Mikaelsons immediately turn to Caroline, who then lets out a disgruntled sound. "Crap."

"Caroline, you now hold the title to the plantation." Elijah passes the paper on to her. Something passes between them in the flitting moment their eyes meet, but she quickly looks down at the paper.

"Just the kind of bad karma I needed," she mutters, clearly unhappy about this turn of events. It takes no genius to know she has harbored no love for New Orleans, and not unreasonably. The city has been far from kind to her since her arrival. It has gotten Klaus thinking a lot. He's trying his best to make this place feel like home for her, for it to be safe, but so far all his attempts have fallen miserably short. He fears one day soon she'll announce her desire to leave them and go back to Virginia. For some reason, he feels giving her the deeds to the plantation might take her one step closer to it.

He has to say it, though. It’s quite an ingenious solution his brother has orchestrated there. It’s the sort of mildly unorthodox plotting he would do himself. And Elijah’s dealt with all the minor details swiftly and effectively. The surlier his brother gets, the more efficient he is. Klaus is almost proud.

"This way, if we bury our mother and we consecrate those grounds, we grant Sophie the power she needs to finish the Harvest ritual."

"I'm impressed, brother," Klaus says, smiling. "You're a bit of a mad genius. Count me in."

"Am I the only one thinking?" Rebekah protests. "Our mother was the most powerful witch in history. If we bury her here, we hand that power to our enemies to use against us."

"Given the circumstances, Rebekah, I hardly see that we have a choice," Elijah counters.

"Well, what do you think?" his sister turns to Caroline.

"It's not my mother."

"But you're a witch."

"You know, I'm starting to get a little tired of everyone _conveniently_ remembering I'm a witch only when you want my help in disagreeing with something. That's the only time you ever consider asking for my opinion. For the millionth time, my magic is not the same as theirs. I can't perform this crazy-ass ritual, _thank God_ , because I don't wanna slit some poor girl's throat. None of this affects me. I don't care if they all lose their powers, because mine remains very much untouched — and before you say anything, no, my daughter is most definitely _not_ going to be a New Orleans witch, I don't care where she's born. She's already taking after him in everything else; her witchy side is gonna come from _me_. Now what I _do_ care about is my child _dying_ before she's even born because the whole freaking city will be burning up in flames. So if the only way to prevent this from happening is to bury some dead all-powerful witch, then why the hell do I care? She's not my mother."

Klaus feels an amused smile spreading on his lips. That heated speech was clearly the end result of a lot of frustration building up throughout the day, but it's not every day you get the kind of stunned faces he sees in the room. Rebekah's face fell and Elijah's eyebrows went up to his hairline at the end of Caroline's rant.

"Excellent point, love," Klaus beams.

"Rebekah?" Elijah prods.

His sister clears her throat, turns away from Caroline. "I don't know why I even bother. You'll just do whatever you want anyway."

"No. Our decision has to be unanimous."

"This is not a democracy, Elijah, and we're running out of time."

"You're quite right, Niklaus. This is family."

As if to reinforce his point, the downpour begins outside, the sound of water cascading down with violence almost deafening. "The next sign's begun. Rebekah, we need your consent."

"Kill a demon today, face the devil tomorrow. Whatever. I'm in."

"Good. Let's go fetch our mother, shall we?"

Elijah leaves the room in a hurry, followed closely by Rebekah. Klaus is about to join them when he realizes Caroline hasn't moved. She looks paralyzed in her seat, her eyes fixed on the silver curtain outside, one hand resting on her baby bump.

"You have to come too, sweetheart. You heard Elijah. The baby is involved, we need you to consecrate the grounds."

She peers at him anxiously, a shadow passing across her face as she stands to her feet. Klaus stops right in front of her, placing both his hands on her shoulders and giving her a gentle, comforting squeeze.

"It's going to be ok. We'll complete the ritual. Our daughter will be quite safe."

She still seems rather shaken with concern, but somewhat more relaxed as she nods. "Let's hope this crazy plan of yours is right."

 

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The whole thing will be seared onto Caroline's mind for the rest of her life.

She's unfortunately witnessed quite a number of terrible deaths in her short life, some of which were violent and horrifying. But this... This was by far the worst.

First, she stood under the worst rain storm she's ever seen, sharing an umbrella with Klaus that was clearly not built to resist the end of the world while Father Kieran celebrated Esther Mikaelson's burial. Why they needed a priest there, she had no idea. In turn, they each had to cut their hands open and shed their bloods into the grave. Caroline's was particularly important because of the baby. It was the only way that whole thing would work.

In her mind, she knew that it was the only way to prevent the apocalypse, and she stood by her perhaps uncalled-for rant. But when she was finally there, committing her baby to that land and whatever kind of powerful magic would come from consecrating the Original witch in New Orleans, she got cold feet. Something told Caroline she would live to regret this. Maybe not tomorrow, or a month or even in a year. But one day. No good deed goes unpunished in this city.

Once they were done with the burial, they went to the cemetery to wait for Marcel. Rebekah managed to get a whiff of his whereabouts and found him hiding in a warehouse by the docks. As Caroline had predicted, it was Davina who made the choice to sacrifice herself, once it became clear that she was not getting better and that the whole city would suffer with her. With everything that's happened to that girl, she had to have some strong fiber in her. She's young — _was_ young, Caroline reminded herself bitterly — but wise, and made stronger by all the tragedy that followed her around like a shadow. She wouldn't cower and hide in a time like that.

Rebekah gave her and Marcel a few more precious moments together and went back to meet them while they waited. Klaus became impatient, thinking that Marcel would take off with her again, that Rebekah had been too lenient, that she should've brought them with her, by force if needed be. But it was a mercy to give them more time together to properly say goodbye, especially considering everything that happened after. 

By the time Marcel finally arrived, carrying Davina in his arms, fire was already following close behind them. It was as though the very air was burning, despite all the heavy and merciless rain still pounding. Caroline shut her eyes and did a quick spell, keeping the flames from reaching them, but if the ritual didn't work... She knew it was only a matter of time. The magic tearing through New Orleans then was much stronger than any one witch's power. She could only hold it back for so long.

The sound of Sophie's dagger slashing through Davina's neck was still ringing in Caroline's ears. The gurgling blood as she tried to speak, falling back in Marcel's arms... She had to look away, fighting hard to ignore the nausea and the acrid taste in her mouth.

But a second later, the fire stopped burning, the rain stopped falling, the winds stopped raging, and all was quiet. She saw a light shining as though from inside Davina, running through her body from head to toe, as her magnificent power flowed into the earth. 

The ritual worked. And Davina was dead.

Sophie called upon her elders to accept the sacrifices and resurrect their chosen ones. She called, and called, and called. If her elders were there at all, they weren't listening. Or they simply didn't care. No matter how hard she begged, how fiercely she screamed into the night, all four Harvest girls remained lifeless.

When the witch broke down in violent sobs, feeling as betrayed as everyone else, Caroline couldn't stand it anymore.

She closed her eyes as tears started trickling down and whirled around to walk back to the car.

"Caroline."

When she heard Klaus' voice, she didn't think. Just turned around, wrapped her arms tightly around him and buried her face in his neck as uncontrollable sobs wrecked through her. Caroline grabbed on to him for strength; if he weren't there, she's sure she'd have melted to the ground into a pool of tears. Klaus was effectively keeping her whole.

It's hard to tell what part of it got to her the most. The bone-deep fear that took over her when she saw the fire following Marcel and thought they were all gonna die a horrible, painful death. The look in his eyes as he let Davina out of his arms and into certain death. The way that girl tried to hold on to life even as it flowed out of her open neck, so scared of the darkness. The moment the light went off in her eyes. Sophie's screams as her ancestors refused to give her back the girls. All that hope... All that promise... And four dead girls, not that much younger than herself.

All Caroline could think was, what if it was her there? What if it was her daughter? She thought back of her mother, totally oblivious to the insanity her life had become, and to the fact she came so close to losing her only child today, in a city she had no idea Caroline went to, with a granddaughter in her womb she would never meet. Like Sophie lost her niece, again. Like Marcel lost Davina. And it just... broke her.

She was suddenly overwhelmed by how grateful she was to have Klaus. Despite all their bickering and disagreements, by how much they fought and how complicated their relationship was... Caroline saw the despair of two people who had lost absolutely everything tonight. How devastatingly lonely they felt in that moment. It reminded her of Elena, who lost... Everyone. Her parents. Her biological parents. Her legal guardians. Her brother. To the point it all became so much she had to let go of herself just to stay alive. And in that moment, Caroline felt privileged that she didn't have to be alone. 

Klaus held her until she stopped quivering.

The ride home was bleak and silent. As soon as they arrived, Rebekah disappeared to one side, Elijah to the other and Caroline into her room, where she is now, failing miserably at trying to sleep. She never desired so much for a drink. Or ten. 

She starts hearing screams and the sounds of things crashing and for a moment her heart goes up to her throat when she thinks it's the winds again. That the ritual didn't work, and the girls died for absolutely nothing. She pulls herself out of bed and goes out to the balcony overlooking the courtyard, where Marcel is smashing everything he puts his hands on. 

"That won't bring her back, you know?" Klaus speaks solemnly, walking into the courtyard. 

"This is your fault!" Marcel hisses at him. "I should've never let you anywhere near her!"

"Marcel..."

"The city was fine before you came! We were fine! Davina was safe! She was in control! If you hadn't gotten her worked up! If you hadn't tried to kill that boy!"

"My condolences the girl is gone, but don't lose perspective."

_Oh, Klaus_ , Caroline thinks. The last thing someone grieving wants to hear is that they need _perspective_. Marcel is gonna break his face and Caroline wouldn't say he's wrong to do it. 

"We still have our community," he continues. "The vampires of this town–"

" _I don't care about the vampires!_ " Marcel roars, a sound filled with such pain and hatred that makes Caroline shiver. "She is dead! Do you hear me?! She is dead!"

Klaus flashes towards him, holding him by the shoulders, and for a second Caroline thinks that's it. They're gonna start throwing punches and she's gonna have to pull them apart before somebody else ends up dead. But then Klaus pulls Marcel close and wraps him into a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry," he speaks softly as Marcel cries not unlike how Caroline did at the cemetery. There’s something very astonishing about seeing a man such as Marcel, so strong, old and larger than life, quaked by emotions and reduced to tears over the loss of a loved one. It makes Caroline feel that tightness in her chest all over again. "You may think I know nothing of your grief, but you're wrong." Klaus pulls away, lifting Marcel's face gently to look him in the eye. "In the days after I fled this city, I thought you were dead. It was years before I could speak your name so keenly did I feel that loss. I'm sorry, Marcel. I'm sorry."

When Marcel hugs Klaus once more, Caroline knows she has to step away and let them be. Tonight is a terrible night to be on her own without the aid of alcohol and she was seriously considering knocking on Klaus' door, but Marcel needs him more than she does right now.

As quietly as she can not to draw attention to herself, she goes back to the loneliness of her bedroom. 

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Elijah sees the moment Caroline slips quietly back into her room. Even from a distance he can see she has been crying. While he thinks perhaps Niklaus is the kind of support she needs right now, his brother has his hands full with Marcellus, who's understandably having a break down after the Harvest ritual failed to return the sacrificed girls to life, even though it apparently worked. It's a mystery Elijah plans on investigating further, but not tonight.

The events of this evening have affected all of them, and it's no different for Elijah. He feels deeply for the loss of Davina. However she may have felt about him, he never meant for her to get hurt in all of this. He genuinely believed she needed the ritual in order for her plight to end. It just goes to show that power isn't everything. Davina was the strongest witch in maybe the whole world for a year or so and it brought her nothing but misery. They shared very few moments together, but it was enough for Elijah to admire the girl's spirit. She was strong and very mature for someone so young. Maybe too much, even. No one should ever have to go through that much pain at such a young age. Just see what it did to Niklaus.

But Davina wasn't all he had to endure on this awful day. The failed consecration of Celeste's remains brought a flood of memories back. Elijah's nurtured infatuations more times than he can remember in his life, but he's only ever been in love, real love, twice. Celeste was one of those. Her loss cut deeply into him, took decades to heal. He once thought she was the love of his life. Seeing his last promise to her being broken like that felt like a violation. It was the least he could still do for someone who was removed from life far too early by hatred and prejudice. He still feels responsible for what happened to her, for not paying enough attention to the havoc his brother was causing all over town and allowing it to go so far. The least he owed Celeste was to uphold the promise he made to her in death.

The mystery of how her bones were consecrated when her grave looked absolutely untouched still nags at him, and it's also something he'll have to give a deeper thought. Her power has gone somewhere, and it was not back to the ancestors. 

And then there's Caroline...

Her betrayal hurt him deeply. He thought he'd get over it soon, that he just needed a couple of hours to clear his head, but even just looking at her he felt a twinge. She seemed remorseful and genuinely sorry, but... It just wasn't enough.

When he saw her breaking down at the cemetery, Elijah felt something. A desire to comfort her, despite his own pain. It just felt so _wrong_. Caroline is the light of their house. She's strong and resilient, always smiling. To see her so devastated by grief like that...

But Niklaus had been there. And now he isn't. Elijah doesn't fault him; Marcellus really does need a friendly face right now and he doubts anyone would be able to offer him more support than Niklaus. He’s the closest thing to a father, a family, that boy’s ever had. But that leaves Caroline to brood on her own. And Elijah just can't see her like that.

She's left the door open, and is leaning against the wall, weeping quietly.

"Are you all right?" he asks, as gently as he can not to startle her.

Caroline takes a shuddery breath, drying out her tears with her hands. "It was a tough day."

"Yes. It was."

"I always thought I was less of a witch because I didn't have a coven. But what kind of community does this to their own people? My daughter will _never_ be a French Quarter witch. I won't let it."

Elijah wants to say that she might not have a choice if her child is born in the city. New Orleans has a way of claiming power for itself, devouring it, and her daughter will likely be the most powerful of them all. The daughter of a witch and a hybrid. It just doesn't feel like this might be the best time to mention it or to discuss options, though. Instead, he just nods.

Caroline falls silent for a moment. "Are you ready to forgive me yet?"

Elijah sighs. "It's not that easy."

She takes a few tentative steps forward. She seems suddenly sober, her eyes red, but dry; her chin out. "I was wrong to go through your journals. I was wrong to tell Sophie about Celeste. I'm so sorry, Elijah. I never meant to betray you, but I really didn't think I had much of a choice."

"It was not your choice to make, Caroline. During my fever in the Bayou, you were inside my head. You know what Celeste meant to me. To violate her grave or not should've been my decision, no one else's. Do you have any idea how rare love is for creatures like me? In a thousand years I have found it but twice, and when I have, I have honored it."

"You're right. I make no excuses for that. I screwed up. It was supposed to be your choice, and I am so sorry that I robbed you of that. I know what a promise means to you. But that was 200 years ago, Elijah. If I thought I'd be hurting you this much, I would've gone to you first. I just thought... If it meant having a shot at helping those werewolves... You saw how they live, and those were the ones who had it good. I can't choose the dead over the living. And neither should you."

Elijah stares at her hard, her words ringing like thunder in his head.

_I can't choose the dead over the living. And neither should you._

He doesn't know what it is about it, but some kind of force that is greater than reason, greater than the hurt in his chest, propels him forward, filling him with a courage he'd been fighting until now. It makes him cut the space between them. Makes him reach out and touch her face. She jumps just a little, but not enough to break contact.

Elijah tips his head forward, so close now he can see the shards of green in her blue eyes.

It feels suddenly inevitable. He's been wanting to do this for so long. Why fight it?

_I can't choose the dead over the living. And neither should you._

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"I was wrong to go through your journals. I was wrong to tell Sophie about Celeste. I'm so sorry, Elijah. I never meant to betray you, but I really didn't think I had much of a choice."

Klaus stops when he hears Caroline's voice. He was going to check on her, see if she needs anything. He saw her from the courtyard, but thought it best to focus his attention on Marcellus. He was falling apart, about to tear down the compound. Klaus stood with him until he calmed down, was fully willing to crack open his best bourbon and devote him his undivided attention for the night, but then Marcel asked for a moment alone in Davina's room, and Klaus allowed him his privacy to mourn his friend. He is not a fan of grieving with company himself and, despite his concern, he can perfectly understand Marcel's need to retire into his loneliness. In that aspect, at least, they are very much alike. There are certain things that no one can help mend, some places no one else can reach, and trying to do so only generates frustration on both sides, so why bother?

He moved on to Caroline, then. She seemed so very lonely there on the balcony, and he had to fight the urge to go to her right then. Now that he's approaching her room, he can hear she's talking to Elijah. They're discussing the mysterious happening that had his brother troubled and Caroline weeping all through the day. He should probably let them be to settle their discord, but that would be the decent thing to do and Klaus has never been known to be a decent person. So instead, he stops and listens, trying to put the pieces together.

He suspected it had something to do with Celeste. Caroline's the one who gave Sophie the location of the old witch's remains. No wonder Elijah has been so uncharacteristically cold towards her. Klaus remembers very well the hellish days following his lover's death. Elijah wouldn't speak to him for over a month, moved out of their home and refused to even see him. After identifying the perpetrators of Celeste's murder and thoroughly putting them to justice, he worked tirelessly to dispel the rumors that the witches had been making sacrificial magic, and made it very clear to Klaus that if he continued to pile up the bodies across the French Quarter and blame it on others, he would leave the city and never return. The threat was effective. Life was very boring for agonizingly long months while Elijah mourned his beloved Celeste and Klaus was forced to dampen his moods and quit challenging everyone who thwarted him to duels he always invariably won. He never realized how much his brother cared for the woman until she was gone. Personally, he wasn't all that upset. His relationship with the Quarter covens was very honest and open since the start: he didn't like them, and they didn't like him. Something that remains unchanged to this day.

"It was not your choice to make, Caroline. During my fever in the Bayou, you were inside my head. You know what Celeste means to me. To violate her grave or not should've been my decision, no one else's. Do you have any idea how rare love is for creatures like me? In a thousand years I have found it but twice, and when I have, I have honored it."

"You're right. I make no excuses for that. I screwed up. It was supposed to be your choice, and I am so sorry that I robbed you of that. I know what a promise means to you. But that was 200 years ago, Elijah. If I thought I'd be hurting you this much, I would've gone to you first. I just thought... If it meant having a shot at helping those werewolves... You saw how they live, and those were the ones who had it good. I can't choose the dead over the living. And neither should you."

He waits to hear Elijah's retort, but it never comes. His brother goes quiet, and Klaus becomes strangely unsettled. Something about that misplaced silence sends alarm bells ringing all through his head. 

He takes another two stealthy steps forward, enough to peek inside the room. And what he sees makes his whole world crumble.

He knew there was _something_ going on between Elijah and Caroline. Of course he knew. He's known it since the very first day. His brother made no mystery of his fascination, and she seemed to naturally gravitate towards him. But then so do most people. Elijah's enigmatic and stoic exterior is but a façade. When he takes a liking to someone, he becomes warm and affectionate, always eager to please, and it's easy to understand why Caroline would be drawn to his softer and friendlier disposition, given the circumstances. 

Their proximity always made him jealous, but Klaus convinced himself, when he invited Elijah and Rebekah to move in, that whatever his brother's sentiments, Caroline would never return it. Elijah was but a friend, a dear one, perhaps, but no more. 

They were finally making some progress. After the night before, Klaus thought...

Wrong, apparently. He was wrong.

His brother holds her face so tenderly, tipping his head to the side ever so slightly... So reverently. Like he's been waiting forever to do this.

Pain falls thought Klaus like rain, sinking into his veins, consuming his entire being. And in its wake comes the anger. Mighty. Burning. His heart rips with anguish and he feels a roar clawing at his chest, trying to escape as his beast, which had been so tame all through the day, rumbles into wakefulness. 

He clenches his hands into tight fists, his nails digging into his palms until it bleeds.

Before their lips touch and Klaus can no longer hold back, he flashes away.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Caroline's heart is rumbling in her chest. Her throat is clogged, her palms are sweaty, she can't even blink. 

_He is going to kiss me. He is going to kiss me. He is going to kiss me._

She's frozen, paralyzed. He's so close now she can feel his breath on her lips. Elijah's going to kiss her. He is _going_ to _kiss her_.

_Do something, Caroline!_

Panic leaves her cold, a chill running through her like despair, and then, at the last second, something hits her and she turns her face away, scrunching her eyes shut. 

" _I'm in love with your brother,_ " she blurts out, words rolling off her tongue with urgency. She doesn't even realize what she's saying until it comes out. It comes as a surprise to her, the open admission. It's not a scream, but it's definitely too loud for how close they are. And as soon as she stops talking, she wants to snatch it all back out of thin air. Not because it's not true, or because she wanted Elijah to kiss her, but because that's probably the worst thing you can tell someone who _wants_ to kiss you, has wanted to for a while, and is just about to do it.

Elijah stops, stunned for a moment, unsure of what to do or say, and then he takes a step back, his eyes sliding from her face as his normally stoic and confident expression becomes pinched.

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry, Elijah. I panicked. I didn't mean — I shouldn't have — I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize, Caroline. I overstepped. Please, forgive me."

"No. I mean — yes, but. That was an awful way to... communicate... that information. I didn't mean to string you along. I promise you, I never meant to -"

"I know." He smiles, a little sad. "You don't have to explain yourself. This incredibly awkward situation has been entirely my own doing."

"I should've said something sooner, though. I mean, it's probably a conversation we should've had. In the spirit of full disclosure and everything. I just... Didn't know how." She pauses. "And I didn't want to lose your friendship."

"You'd never lose my friendship," Elijah says, very earnest.

Caroline rolls her eyes, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. "I have a PhD in brotherly shenanigans, after so many years with Elena and the Salvatores. I know it can get... ugly, to say the least. Not that this is in _any way_ like _that_. I mean, Elena was obviously stringing both of them along, and I wasn't... Well, I never openly turned you down, but I... What I'm trying to say is, I didn't want to get between you and Klaus. I was hoping it wouldn't come to that."

"Rest assured that there's plenty standing between me and my brother and none of it is your fault. If anything, you've brought us closer together than we've been in at least a century."

"Maybe. But then I could also be the thing that brought you apart again. I was afraid you would leave." She waits for him to say that _No, I would never_ , and when he doesn't, she jumps up from the bed again. "Elijah, please."

"Perhaps it's for the best that I -"

" _No,_ " she cuts him off, not missing a beat. "Absolutely not. I'd end up killing Klaus without you here. And since he can't die, I’d just kill him over and over again. We're supposed to have a kid together, I can't be murdering her dad every other week."

"I think you and Niklaus are perfectly capable of understanding one another."

"For about twenty minutes at a time, sure. You know he needs you. You're his balance." She makes a pause. "And I realize this might be completely selfish of me, but... I need you here, too."

"My only purpose returning to New Orleans was to aid my brother in finding a path towards redemption. So far, I've been a monumental failure."

"Are you kidding? You have stood by his side, _believing_ in him, even when he did unforgivable things."

"Yes, and what was it that you called me? An _enabler_. I'm not sure my influence over Niklaus has been a positive one."

"You care for him. And he listens to you. You're a _good_ brother."

Elijah's lips tug into a smile that does not meet his eyes. "I just tried to kiss the woman carrying his child. How good of a brother am I?"

And, well. Caroline can't really argue that Klaus wouldn't be mad out of his mind if he knew about this. But there's no reason why he should. It was a one-off. A mistake. One that could've been easily prevented by an honest conversation that the two of them should've had a long time ago. Mistakes happen. Klaus of all people should understand that.

"Well, I said you were a good brother, not perfect."

"Far from it, actually," he agrees, grinning. 

"You've forgiven him for far worse than this."

"I think he'd more easily forgive me for putting a dagger through his heart."

"Then just don't tell him. He doesn't have to know."

Elijah looks down and away, and Caroline can feel all the sharp edges of the silence that follows.

"Elijah -"

"I should probably go."

"We should talk -"

"I'm sorry again, Caroline."

"Stop apologizing!"

"Good night."

He doesn't even wait for another protest to rise, just whooshes away, making unfair use of his vampire speed.

Caroline feels her heart sinking in her chest. Like her night wasn't bad enough already.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

When Rebekah feels something crawling up her bed, she’s pretty certain it’s Marcel.

He was a wreck, understandably so, and she felt so very deeply for him. Seeing that poor girl die for nothing was a punch to the gut. Even with everything she’s seen in her life, it still crushes her. Davina was so young, so full of life… She was put through such hardships and still the light in her survived, the hope for a better future. Now she’s gone. The world is a cruel, dark place and it grinds the goodness out of anyone who dares to hope. Rebekah knows; she’s been that person.

She considered going to Marcel, offering him a shoulder to cry on, but she saw that Nik beat her to it. Her brother is such a conundrum… A tactless arse in one minute, and a well of kindness the next. But there are only very few people he’d ever show that side of him to, ever care enough about to comfort, to feel empathy. Rebekah can probably count them on the fingers of one hand. Marcel was once his favorite. Glued to the hips, the two of them. They were gonna take over the world with their handsome smiles and wicked inclinations. And then Mikael happened… Every time Rebekah remembers that… Every time she thinks about what led them away from New Orleans, effectively putting an end to Klaus and Marcel’s once unshakable friendship.... It brings a sour taste to her mouth.

If Nik ever finds out what they did… 

Not the time to be thinking about the past. The present is dire enough.

Even if Klaus is in a rare benevolent mood after the events of this evening, Marcel is insane if he thinks her brother won’t rip both of their hearts for finding them in bed right under his roof. Not _all_ has been forgiven. And truth be told, Rebekah is not in the mood for that either.

She’s ready to tell him he’s welcome to sleep on her couch when she shifts around and finds not Marcel’s big and strong figure, but a small, weepy pregnant woman.

She frowns.

“What are you doing?” Caroline takes a sobby breath, but doesn’t respond, staring intently at the ceiling. “Are you drunk?”

“No.”

“Oh, no,” Rebekah speaks around a sigh, shaking her head. “What did Nik do now? Honestly, what is wrong with him? On a night like this -”

“He didn’t do anything.”

“Then why the bloody hell are you crying?”

Caroline is quiet for a long moment, her silence punctuated by her low weeping. “Four girls were resurrected, four girls were supposed to return.”

Rebekah arches her an eyebrow. “You’re crying because the Harvest didn’t work?”

“It did work,” Caroline objects, her voice quivery. Weird is something Rebekah eats with coffee every morning, but this is for certain the strangest conversation she’s had in a while. “The storm stopped, the fires went out. I saw when Davina’s power flowed out of her body and into the earth, back to the ancestors. The ritual worked.”

“Then what the hell happened?”

“I don’t know. If the four of them died, and were not brought back… Then where did that power go?”

_Huh_ , Rebekah thinks. She had not thought about that. Did Sophie hijack the ritual? That would make no sense; the whole reason she was doing it was to bring back her niece. But if it wasn’t her… Then who absorbed the power of the Harvest?

The idea of having an ill-intentioned witch walking around with the kind of power Davina used to sport before makes her deeply unsettled. Especially considering they’ve consecrated their mother, made her part of this city’s ancestors. She can only imagine the havoc Esther won’t cause on the other side.

Something tells her this is not the last they’ll be hearing of this… But then Caroline starts sobbing again and she loses her train of thought. It is so very distracting.

“What is wrong with you?” she asks, in a gentler tone, starting to get seriously concerned.

“Nothing.”

“No one cries for nothing. If it wasn’t Nik, then what was it? Are you sick?”

“I’m not sick, Rebekah.”

“Then -”

“Oh my God! Have you never had a friend before?”

“Not really,” she deadpans. “I had brothers, and none of them ever climbed onto my bed in tears.”

Caroline shifts to her side and Rebekah gets a better look at her puffy red eyes. “I’m just sad, ok?” she says in a small voice. “When a friend is sad, you don’t ask what’s wrong, you just let them stay. Can I stay?”

The Original sighs, throwing her covers on top of Caroline. “Of course, silly. I never said you had to leave.”

“Thank you,” the girl replies, a tiny smile that does meet her eyes on her face.

As much as Rebekah would very much like to know what happened, and she’s certain something did, Caroline’s right. Clearly she doesn’t want to be alone, and Rebekah can certainly understand the need for company tonight. Nik must still be with Marcel, if she’s come to her for comfort, but no matter. She is actually glad. She’s come to care quite a lot about Caroline, who she wouldn’t even call a friend anymore; they’re family now.

From school rivals to sharing a bed in a pitiful night. Who would’ve ever thought? Rebekah wonders what Matt would say if he could see them right now. She bets he’d be proud of her.

She settles back onto her pillow, laying on her side and looking straight at Caroline. “Do you need anything?”

The other girl just shakes her head. “Just this is fine.”

“But do you promise you’ll tell me if you do? Or if you want to talk about whatever caused this?”

Caroline nods. “I promise.”

“And I promise that if my brothers are behind it, I will personally avenge you.”

Caroline lets out a sad little laugh, and then she shuts her eyes. “Good night, Rebekah.”

Rebekah’s lips tip into a small grin. “Good night.”

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got many comments last chapter asking if Caroline had spoken to Sophie about Celeste or not. Since I wanted to include the original scenes at the final part of chapter 10, I moved all that Sophie-Celeste thing (which technically happens on ep 10) to this chapter. I hope it was easy to understand and that everything made sense to you. TO can get very Bamboozle at times with a bunch of really complicated mythology being pulled out of God knows where. So let me know if anything doesn't make sense to you and I might be able to clarify it (or not!).
> 
> I'm SUPER eager to hear your thoughts after this chapter! Drop me a note and let me know! :) Thanks for reading!


	12. S01E12 Dance Back From the Grave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **IMPORTANT!** For those of you who did not watch TO or do not remember, episode 12 is the one immediately after the crossover with The Vampire Diaries, when Klaus and Rebekah go back to Mystic Falls and we all know what happens. I've shaken things up a bit and I hope you guys enjoy my twist on that crossover.
> 
> Because of that, there are lots of TVD info in this chapter, things that have happened while Caroline was away. I googled, I watched some YT videos and I read lots of entries on Vampire Wiki, but I did not go back to rewatch tons of TVD episodes just to write a couple of paragraphs here. So if there are any mistakes (and there might be), I ask you to please forgive me. It's been YEARS since I last watched season 5 and my memory sucks.
> 
> As always, I have to thank [coveredinthecolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/pseuds/coveredinthecolors) for taking some time to read over this monster chapter (it's the longest one so far). Took me a while to update cause I was busy with life and KCAUWeek - I wrote drabbles, btw! It's all up on AO3 or FF.net, in case you're interested. :) 
> 
> Big thank you to everyone who kept reminding me they were eagerly expecting an update! This makes me more excited about getting quicker updates out. Your feedback is life! ❤

* * *

 

A phone call from Mystic Falls wakes Caroline up.

She stares at her phone for a long time, trying to make sense of it and not entirely sure it’s not a dream. Stefan's name is flashing on the screen.

Stefan _never_ calls.

He hasn't called her _once_ since she came to New Orleans — which, honestly, Caroline doesn't hold against him. He never called back when she was still in Mystic Falls either and they were sort of best friends. Granted, they used to see each other every other day, but phones are just not his thing. He barely talks to people in person, let alone calls them. She’d more easily expect a wax-sealed letter delivered by pigeons before a phone call.

Panic licks at her belly all of a sudden. If Stefan's calling her, it must be urgent. And if it's urgent enough for _Stefan_ to try and reach her — not Elena, not Bonnie, not her mom, not even Matt; _Stefan_ —then...

_Oh, God. Oh nonononono..._

With the worst possible scenarios already flashing through her mind, she fumbles to take the call, her heart beating in her throat.

"What is it?" she splutters, words tumbling over one another.

"Caroline?"

"Yeah. What happened?"

"Woah. Are you ok?"

"Am I ok? You just woke me up! With a phone call!"

"Oh. Did I freak you out a little bit there?"

"Of course you did," she snaps, sitting up in bed. "You never call. It's..." She checks the hour on her phone. "Not even eight in the morning. What? Did someone die?"

"All right, calm down. No one died." He pauses. "Yet."

"What?!"

"It's no one you care about."

"Stefan!"

"It's Katherine. Katherine is dying."

Caroline is quiet for a long time, her still sleep-muddled brain trying to process the information. "What?"

"Katherine took the cure, then Silas drained it out of her, and now she's dying of old age and -"

"All right, let me stop you right there," she cuts in, feeling a little dizzy at the sheer amount of information to unpack in such a small sentence. "Katherine _took the cure_?"

She spends the next thirty minutes on the phone getting up to speed in Mystic Falls drama. _A lot_ has happened since she left, _way_ more than her mother or her friends had been sharing. They always made it sound like everything was _fine_ , boringly so. Regular crimes only for the town sheriff; finals and frat parties for her two college student best friends. Caroline became convinced that she was the disaster magnet after all; as soon as she left, all the apocalyptic stuff followed her right out of Virginia and into the swamps of Louisiana.

Apparently, not exactly.

Stefan spent _weeks_ drowning at the bottom of the quarry lake and — _surprise_ — he's also a doppelganger! _Silas'_ doppelganger, nonetheless.

It takes Caroline two whole minutes just to recover from that.

“You’re a _doppelganger_? Like… A real freaking… doppelganger?”

“Yep.”

“Does that mean there could be other Stefans out there?”

“That’s exactly what it means.”

“Holy shit, Stefan.”

“You have no idea.”

How the _fucking hell_ did no one think that was worthy of a mention? Elena spent ten minutes describing her new freaking _haircut_. Surely she could've mentioned all the months Stefan went missing. Or that Bonnie spent a while there strolling across the Other Side. Or that she wasted the cure everyone had been fighting over like lunatics into Katherine, only for Silas to drain the whole thing out of her. So now 500 years of wickedness are catching up in record time, and she probably won't last much longer.

Oh, yeah. She also has a daughter called Nadia who's part of some creepy cult-like thing called _The Travelers_ that has been causing all sorts of trouble all over Mystic Falls.

By the time Caroline gets off the phone, her head is _pounding_ and her heart hangs heavy — and it is definitely not because of Katherine.

Hearing about all the things she's missed out on for the last few months made Caroline realize how fast life moved on without her back in Mystic Falls. One of her best friends was officially declared _dead_ for a while and nobody bothered telling her. It could be a side effect of Rebekah's compulsion; maybe her choice of words made everyone think they should spare her of the gory details, just so she wouldn't feel like going home at the first sign of trouble, which... She probably would have. Nobody would've kept her from attending Bonnie's funeral and Klaus would've never let her go on her own. She would've had to show up with an Original in tow and maybe a horde of enemies trying to put her down while she mourned her friend and a strange round belly, which would've prompted questions she's not ready to answer. So... Not ideal.

 _Still_. It's the principle of the thing. They've kept their secrets from her, she's kept hers from them, and the world didn't stop turning on either side. The painful realization that her life and that of her friends are no longer directly intertwined settles with a heavy weight inside of her. She's known some of them since before she could walk. They were her whole universe, and now... They're as good as nothing to each other.

Caroline's never felt more far removed from home.

She takes a minute to recover after she hangs up the phone, and then there's a brief moment of puzzlement when she realizes she's not in her own room, before she remembers she'd climbed into bed with Rebekah the night before. Yet another proof of just how estranged she’s grown from her old life. She has no idea what’s going on with her best friends, but she’s sharing beds with Rebekah Mikaelson. And being glad for having her by her side. Caroline was way too messed up to be on her own after the emotional rollercoaster of the previous night, and Rebekah was kind enough not to kick her out or make too many uncomfortable questions. The Original sister is nowhere to be found now, though.

Caroline drags herself out of bed, goes back to her room to splash some water on her face, brush her teeth and maybe feel a little bit like a human being again, and then she goes padding across the compound after the Mikaelsons. She can't imagine they wouldn't want to hear about Katherine. She never meant much to Caroline — just another name on an ever-growing list of nasty bitches who have tried to kill her — but she definitely means something to her Original house mates. Katherine was a part of their lives in one way or another for 500 years, and maybe it's the pregnancy hormones or the phone call from Stefan making her sentimental, but Caroline can't imagine having someone you've known for that long dying and not feeling anything. Even she feels like this is the end of an era, and she’s known Katherine for little over three years — and hated her pretty much the whole time.

She finds Klaus is in his studio, doing something that only faintly resembles painting. It's more like sparring. He is viciously attacking the canvas with a brush.

It's hard to miss the stench of alcohol.

She sighs. Barely eight in the morning and already he's started drinking. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say he's _still_ drinking. Given everything that happened last night and how sour his mood obviously seems to be, Klaus probably hasn't seen his bed in a while. Things might've gotten uglier than she thought possible with Marcel.

"What has that painting ever done to you?" she asks jokingly, trying to clear up the air.

Klaus falters for just a second at the sound of her voice, the muscles on his back visibly tensing the only sign that he’s acknowledged her presence.

"Wow," she says, stepping into the studio. "Last night must've been fun."

"For some of us, I'm sure," he grumbles.

Caroline's brow crinkles in confusion at his cryptic comment. "Ok. I was being sarcastic, actually."

"I wasn't."

"Well, I just got off the phone with Stefan," she continues, deciding to ignore the snap in his voice. Klaus is hard enough to read when he's acting like a normal person, when he's in one of his moods it's just impossible to try and get on the same wavelength of that complicated head of his. It’s like he is the pregnant hormonal person in the room, not her. "You're never gonna believe what -"

"Katerina took the cure and lies on the brink of death," he cuts her off, curtly.

Caroline blinks. "You know?"

"Damon called."

"Oh." So that's why Stefan reached out, after all... Katherine's impending death isn't something they deem important, just a fact they're spreading around to any interested parties. It makes her feel a little sad, actually. "Well. What are you gonna do?"

"Nothing."

"Don't you want to -"

"No."

" _Wow_ , you're being a dick." Klaus glowers while he pours himself a glass of scotch, downs the whole thing at once and then goes back to his painting. "All right, then. Forgive me for trying to strike up conversation, your majesty. I'll leave you to your... Whatever this is. Where's Elijah? Does he know about Katherine?"

At the mention of his brother's name, Klaus stops, his entire body going stiff, his grip on the brush so strong it snaps in two. Caroline' frown deepens.

"Elijah left."

Caroline's heart gives a violent lurch in her chest, cold fear spreading all through her guts. "Wha-what? What do you mean... Elijah left?"

Elijah can't have left. Not so fast, not without telling her. But if he was going to leave, this is _exactly_ how he would do, isn't it? Oh, God... She should've followed him last night instead of having a break down and weeping all over Rebekah's pillows. She should've forced him to talk to her, reason with him until he was demoted of this stupid idea of leaving. This is _exactly_ what she was afraid of, _exactly_ why she hesitated so much to talk to him. He said she'd never lose his friendship, and then he leaves without saying anything? Not even a goodbye?

It explains Klaus' mood, at least. His brother left.

_Oh, God..._

She wants to get her phone and yell at Elijah until he turns back around and comes home, and she's not afraid to use the pregnancy card. He can't just do that to her. To his _family_. It's not fair that he'll make her feel guilty when he's the one who -

"Worried, love?" Klaus asks, turning around with an ugly smirk plastered on his face and a dark glint in his eyes. "Afraid he's abandoned you?" Before Caroline can school her face to express just how lost she is at the sour twist in his voice, he continues. "Don't worry. He went to Mystic Falls with Rebekah. I suppose he wanted to say goodbye to Katerina. He was in love with her once, after all. Did he ever tell you that? In fact, he was engrossed in some kind of romantic foolery with her right before the witches summoned me here and he decided it was in his best interest to mind my business. Perhaps he regrets it now. Perhaps he just realized he still has very deep feelings for her."

Caroline watches him quietly for a moment, her anxiety receding at the revelation Elijah’s just gone to see Katherine. That’s better. It means he’s coming back. Probably. Hopefully. Although... She doesn’t think he would do that without telling her first if things weren’t weird. "Ok... Well, that's... Sad. I guess."

"Yes... Very sad, indeed. But I'm certain my valiant brother will be back soon with a broken heart in need of mending. And you'll be right here waiting, won't you?"

She blinks at him, somewhat incredulous. "What? Why would I -"

Klaus doesn't stay to finish the conversation, just takes the half-finished bottle of scotch, his eyes searching her briefly, and then he marches past her, leaving Caroline to fill in the blanks of his raging silence herself.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

If Elijah believed in divine provisions, that is how he would describe that phone call from Mystic Falls.

It's perhaps a tad cruel to think that way when Katerina lay on her deathbed at the Salvatores' home. Elijah was far from happy with the news, quite the opposite. He never wished her any harm, did his very best for 500 years to keep her off his brother's radar. Not that she needed his aid; Katerina is as sly and resourceful as it gets. She had to be, to escape Niklaus' vengeful wrath for as long as she did. But as saddened as he was by the news, Elijah was glad to have a good reason to leave the compound for a couple of days.

Anything to avoid Caroline.

How is he ever supposed to look her in the eye again after that… unfortunate _incident_?

Elijah never meant to kiss her. He made a promise he would never, ever dare to act upon his feelings, but it seems the only person he can’t keep his word to is himself. Something possessed him in that moment and, before he knew it, she was turning her face away, proclaiming her love for Niklaus. Which is _exactly_ what he wanted, isn’t it? He should be _relieved_. Instead, he feels... Blue. Out of sorts. In need of a break from all this to gather his bearings again. In addition to being mortally embarrassed, of course. It was one of the most awkward moments of his life. One thousand years and Elijah never had a woman he was smitten with and about to kiss profess her love for someone else, much less one of his brothers. Then again, he never tried to kiss a woman pregnant with his brother’s child. There truly is a first time for everything.

He's not entirely sure he shouldn't be leaving for good, but Caroline’s pleas have resonated with him. He would never forgive himself if something was to happen to her or to his brother because he wasn't there. And in any case, he gave her his word that he would stay, keep her safe, help his brother make a home for their family out of New Orleans again. So at least until the baby is born, Elijah should uphold his promise. Afterward… It’s a whole other story. Let them cross that bridge once they get to it.

Either way, he's certain he'll be fine, he just... Needs a moment.

The tempestuous mood that afflicted Niklaus the morning they got the call was the final push he needed to decide to go on a road trip. Rebekah volunteered to join him, and so the two of them jumped in the car and left towards Mystic Falls.

In many ways, that little town in the middle of Virginia is home to them. It never felt as such because they always knew they were bound to leave it, even before they were turned. They couldn't live under the influence of Mikael's inexhaustible hatred for long. Niklaus would certainly take off sooner or later, probably would've done it much earlier than the rest of them if he hadn't fallen in love with Tatia, hoping to marry her. Elijah stayed for the same reason. But that sacred ground is where they were born and where they died. Those woods are all they ever knew in their human lives. It's where they were made into monsters, changing the destinies of thousands and thousands throughout history. Like Caroline Forbes'. And Katerina Petrova's.

Elijah cared very deeply for her once. Was instantly charmed by her charisma, her easy smile, her light. Anyone who's only ever met her as Katherine Pierce would find it hard to believe, but she once had a soul as bright and pure as the sun. Her enthusiasm was captivating. He even foolishly imagined they could've spent a lifetime together. How, if she was the one thing his brother had been seeking for centuries? Niklaus would've gone to hell and back to get her; the prophecy said the doppelganger had to die, and so he would’ve never allowed her to live.

Elijah worked tirelessly towards finding a way to preserve Katerina after the ritual, which eventually saved Elena Gilbert, but was useless for the purpose it was meant to serve. He was too late. And too blind. It was but a foolish dream. And in many ways, a mercy. Had Katerina survived, Niklaus would soon realize that her blood was the secret to building an army, and her life would be filled with misery. She would've been but a slave at the hands of Niklaus and he would’ve sucked all the liveliness and the joy out of her. She would’ve withered away, and Elijah would've never forgiven himself for condemning her to such a fate. To a free spirit like her, it would be far worse than death.

Katerina's passion for life was so great that she did the only thing she could in order to survive: killed herself, vanishing into the unknown world for the next 500 years. He was heartbroken to see her go, but so very proud as well. She was every bit the gem he believed her to be.

There were many times when Elijah found himself wondering about the paths her life must’ve taken, whether he could find her again, and how it would be if he did. Every now and then someone would approach Niklaus with invaluable information of her whereabouts, trying to get in his good graces. Once she was no longer of use, she stopped being a priority, but Elijah had no doubt that, were she ever to cross his brother's path again, she was as good as dead. So as much as he wanted to see her, he hoped he never would.

It was during the civil war time when a vampire they'd sent to negotiate trade in another state came back with a story about a woman named Katherine Pierce, perfectly matching the descriptions of Katerina, who had been seen in Virginia as a guest at the house of an important land owner by the name of Giuseppe Salvatore. Elijah asked to see proof and the man showed a small portrait of her. His heart warmed at the sight of Katerina. Beautiful, regal, still alive and kicking after so many years. The sunshine smile remained, but her eyes were different, older and darker. Elijah inquired the man about whether anyone else knew of his tale, and when he denied, he ripped the vampire's heart out and burned the portrait, guaranteeing Katerina at least a few more years of peace. Niklaus was distracted in New Orleans, but he wouldn't bet against his brother’s willingness to take a trip to Virginia to satisfy four hundred years of grudge. Especially since he was yet to find another doppelganger.

Elijah considered going to her himself, but... It didn't make sense anymore. New Orleans was his home and for the first time in centuries he was truly invested in what he and Niklaus were building there. Besides, Katerina had clearly made a life for herself escaping them. It was for the best that they stayed away from each other. It had kept her alive.

Eventually, when their paths became once more intertwined through the advent of Elena Gilbert, they found their way back to each other. And Elijah appreciated the brief time they had together. It felt like closure. Katerina was by no means the same person she'd been all those centuries before, but then so wasn't he. She reminded him of easier times, of when he used to see the world through less cynical and more hopeful lenses. And perhaps it was precisely because of her that Elijah decided to embark on a trip to New Orleans once he learned of the witches plotting against his brother. And then why he decided to stay. She made him remember what it was like to live with a purpose, to expect something greater from life than just to survive for another millennium. The miracle pregnancy offered exactly just that, a chance to find redemption for his brother and to put his family back on the right track. The three remaining Mikaelson siblings could come together to give that child everything they never had: loving parents, the unconditional support of a family and protection from the evils of the world. It wasn't just a way to save Klaus, it was a way to save them all.

Perhaps, if he hadn't spent those months with Katerina, he wouldn't have believed it was still possible.

Their romance was never going to last, anyway. Over the years, she'd become a restless soul, never stopping anywhere for too long. Soon enough she'd be going somewhere else, wherever her fearless heart took her. Besides, he had the clear impression that she'd found the love of her life in the form of the youngest Salvatore, the one she never quite got over.

Elijah’s affections for her resisted the test of time, she remained very much dear to him, but not in the same way as before. Centuries of abuse and loss and Niklaus hardened his heart. He was no longer in love, and after Celeste, he doubted he ever would be. Katerina did awake a softer side in him, though. One that had been dormant for so long he didn’t quite remember what it was like to see the world with hope anymore. It was the most curious thing, though, how ruthless and brutal she became, yet still preserving a wide-eyed ardor to pursue happiness. After everything, Katerina still believed it was out there to be found, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. A bit naive, perhaps, but undoubtedly refreshing, somewhat restoring Elijah's faith in his brother and their future together, as a family.

So even though he knew they were never meant to be, and even though he did not feel sorry for having chosen Niklaus and New Orleans, he felt he owed it to her to say goodbye. Thank her for reminding him of what it was like to believe in something greater than your own, and tell her how deeply sorry he was that she was dying. He'd hoped she'd be finally free to live life to the fullest, not fearing her own shadow any longer, now that Niklaus has finally given her an official pardon. Such a tragic twist of fate...

"Elijah," Katerina breathed out, her voice scratchy and airy, her whole face lighting up at the sight of him. "You came."

He smiled, taking her hand in his as he sat beside her and placing a warm kiss. "Of course I did, Katerina," he said. Even as a dying old woman with wrinkles on her forehead and the corner of her eyes, she was still beautiful. Her frail body was small in that bed, but her soul remained larger than life itself. The fact she was human again sent his mind reeling back to the 1400s; it was ironic that, with her looking older than ever, Elijah felt younger, 600 years lighter.

Elijah sat by her side, holding her hand and reminiscing of old times until she fell asleep, exhausted. He would've stayed longer, but Tyler Lockwood chose that moment to finally make his return to Mystic Falls. As much as Elijah would've loved to have a private _chat_ with that boy about his time in New Orleans, it hardly seemed like a smart idea. If Tyler saw him there, he would immediately start asking about Caroline and then everyone would know. Besides, he can't imagine Caroline would be happy if she knew he'd beaten the Lockwood kid to a pulp, however deserving it might have been. Instead, Elijah sneaked out before Tyler could see him, telling Stefan to give his love to Katerina. He then collected Rebekah from the Grill, where his sister had gone to play darts with that insipid football player she fancies so much for reasons that are beyond comprehension, and they hit the road back home.

All in all, Elijah was gone for less than two whole days, but the trip down memory lane certainly made it feel like much longer.

"I should've never left Mystic Falls," Rebekah confessed as he drove. "I was happier there."

"With that colorless boy? Rebekah, please. You can do better than that."

"That colorless boy actually _liked_ me, and we had a lot of fun together. I could've gone to college."

"Why would you do that?"

"That's called living, Elijah. It's the problem with you and Nik. You think war and conquest is the only way to do it. Your list of mortal enemies becomes longer and longer and yet none of you are happier for it. Maybe I just want something else. Something... Simpler. Easier. To pretend that I'm a normal person for a change, which is what I do when I'm with Matt. He doesn't treat me like an Original, he treats me like the spoiled girl I wish I was, and I'm very grateful for it."

Rebekah's words reinforced in Elijah the certainty of his sister's unhappiness. She will leave them, it's only a matter of time, and the harder Niklaus makes their lives, the closer to walking out the door she'll be. Elijah feels guilty for not giving her the attention she deserves, but he hardly thinks that would suffice. Rebekah wants more than just two overprotective brothers; she wants a story of her own, a life she can fully dictate.

As the youngest, she's always been subjected to their wills and whims, especially Niklaus'. His love for her surpasses anything he feels for the rest of them, Elijah's always known that. Perhaps because they were the closest in appearance. Mikael always made Niklaus feel excluded and outlandish, but he found comfort is his little sister with his same blonde hair and blue eyes. Rebekah has been his favorite since he was a boy, the darling of his eyes. He was so protective of her, so considerate. But that love has gained grim contours since they were turned. It was amplified, along with Niklaus' paranoia. What was sweet before grew to verge on sickness. And the more they were hunted by Mikael, the worse he got. His overprotectiveness became jealousy whenever he thought their sister might leave them for one of her suitors, always believing that everyone was trying to take advantage of her power, to use her to their own selfish benefits. And, to be fair... He wasn't always wrong. Rebekah remained as easy to fall in love as she had been in life, and that led her to some quite dubious companies. But as her brothers, it was their job to advise her, not to forbid her, and Niklaus never quite grasped the difference between the two. As he shed his humanity over the years, he grew more and more controlling, tyrannical at times, and Rebekah was the greatest victim of his disease. And all because he cared for her more than he did for anyone else in the world, even Elijah, who loves both of them equally and with all his heart.

Niklaus' love can be as sharp as a knife.

It'll be sad to see her leave them just as Elijah's trying to build the family home he's always wished for them, now with Caroline and the baby. He’s noticed how close the two of them have become, always walking around together, giggling, sharing secrets, asking for each other’s opinions — and bickering, of course, because Rebekah may be more amenable than Niklaus, but only just. She’s still a Mikaelson, after all, and Caroline has only so much patience for their nonsense.

He just hopes that, when it's time for his sister to go, she doesn't do it by picking a fight with Klaus. It'll only make things harder.

Especially if she finds him in one of his famously foul moods, such as right now.

Two days did absolutely nothing to soothe his temper. The way he was when Elijah left is the way he is as he returns to the compound. He thought running off to Mystic Falls would spare him of the worst of it, but he was wrong. Apparently Niklaus has been harboring it to last. Elijah cannot remember the last time he saw his brother like this, and when it comes to Klaus, who nurtures his own rage with the careful devotion of one who takes care of a pet, that is saying a lot.

As soon as he sees Elijah, his face twists into a grimace so terrible that Elijah thinks he's either going to bite him or have a stroke.

"What is it, brother?" he asks, fearing for a moment that something happened while they were gone.

Niklaus comes up to his face, so close Elijah can smell the alcohol on his breath. "Back so soon? Couldn't stay away for long, could you? Such a family man... _Brother_." He practically spits out the last word, coated in pure venom, before stalking away.

"All right, what did you do?" Rebekah asks, folding her arms over her chest.

"I..." For a moment, Elijah considers the possibility that he knows about the almost kiss. Perhaps Caroline shared it with him in his absence. That would explain his behavior. But he's been like this since before Elijah left, and he hardly thinks Caroline would tell him anything without at least informing Elijah of it. Besides, if he'd known about it, he would also know that they didn't kiss, that Caroline stopped Elijah by saying she's in love with him. Why would he be so sour over something that is technically good? Makes no sense. "I have no idea," he replies.

The strangest part is that Klaus was in such an atypically good mood before this. While everyone panicked under the threat of impending doom and the possible repercussions of the Harvest ritual, even Elijah, overflown with emotions as he was because of Celeste, Klaus kept his wits. Elijah was actually proud of his display of maturity. But it lasted nothing. He's not just back to his normal self, he's _worse_ , and for no discernible reason.

"Gather around, gather around!" They follow Klaus' voice to the courtyard, where he's beckoning all his vampire minions to join him. Marcel informed them he called everyone in for an _emergency meeting_.

"What about?" Elijah inquired.

"If you don't know, how the hell should I?" Marcel replied, with a nonchalant shrug. He still looks distraught, not quite recovered from that awfulness at the cemetery. Clearly he'd rather be anywhere else but here.

"Dearest brethren, your attention, please," Niklaus continues once everyone is listening. "As you all know, the witch Davina is no longer with us. Without her we can no longer monitor the activity of our witch neighbors."

"Hey." Elijah was paying such attention to his brother's speech he didn't notice Caroline's approach. She came to stand next to him, a coy smile on her face, like she's testing the waters. She seems sleepy still, her hair a little rumpled and tied in a loose bun on the top of her head. Elijah thinks she looks lovely, and then he turns away. "What is going on here?"

"Niklaus called an emergency meeting."

"What for?"

"That's what I'm hoping to find out." He pauses, and then turns to her again. "Did you two... Were there any arguments or disagreements...?"

Caroline snorts derisively. "The better question would be, was there anything _other_ than arguments?"

"How so?"

"He barely spoke to me since you and Rebekah left, and the few times he did, it either ended with him yelling and stalking off, or me yelling and stalking off."

"So he's been like this for days."

"Yup. _Very_ long days."

"That means they've just become a lot more dangerous to us," Klaus continues. "I say we keep them on their toes."

"Keep _who_ on their toes?" Caroline asks.

Elijah sighs. "The witches."

"Diego, I wonder if you might lead a rousting in the cauldron."

"Yeah, man! Let's do this!"

He feels Caroline bristling next to him, but before Elijah can advise her against it, she’s already stomping her way down the stairs to confront Klaus.

Elijah sees the exact moment he turns around to face her. There's a whole set of extremely complex emotions flashing through his eyes, none of which Elijah can identify. But the way his lips purse is quite clear.

"What are you doing?" Caroline demands as the vampires start filing out one after the other, talking excitedly about vandalizing the witches' corner of the French Quarter. It's like they live for these little moments of violence that Klaus or Marcel will allow them from time to time. So small-minded.

"This is vampire business, sweetheart," his brother replies in such a condescending tone Elijah can see it gets Caroline’s hackles up from the second floor. "Stay out of it."

" _Excuse me?_ " Her hands close into tight fists next to her body. "You just ordered them to do a _rousting_ in the cauldron. That's _witch_ business."

"Oh? Are you so familiar with the city that you're regarding yourself as one of them now?"

"I don't have to regard myself as one of them to know this is bullshit. After what happened with Davina -"

"I can't control the witches anymore. Can't have them getting too comfortable now, can I? You know witches. Can't trust any of them."

Caroline's face falls. "What? Why are you -"

"Spare me of your whining, Caroline. I don't have time for this. There's a kingdom to be run."

"Niklaus," he draws his brother's name out like a warning.

"Ah. There he is. My noble brother," he sneers. "I was wondering when you'd show up to defend the honor of the witches. Perhaps your proximity has made you feel like one of them yourself?"

Caroline looks at him, completely lost, and then shakes her head. "Klaus, whatever bit you, don't take it out on other people. We just got out of a major crisis and you're gonna start another one? We don't know what happens now that the Harvest ritual has been completed," Caroline says, rather reasonably.

"I am done playing nice," he snaps, giving both of them a glare that could set paper on fire. "Witches are treacherous and I will not sit back and wait to find out what happened to the power that was hijacked off that ritual. But, please. Don't let me get in the way of you two having a lovely day."

He turns on his heels and marches off the compound, leaving both of them dumbfounded and speechless.

"Damn," Marcel, who remained seated exactly where he was, calmly having a drink, remarks. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Caroline protests, gesticulating frantically. "What the hell is wrong with him? What did _you_ do?" she turns the question over to Marcel.

"I stole a couple of bourbons from his cellar, but I don't think that's what's got him like that."

"I don't get it. He lost his mind. Did you see how he was talking about the witches? He meant me, right?"

Elijah opens his mouth to reply and then snaps it back shut when he realizes he's got nothing good to offer. His brother is obviously mad about _something_ and taking it out on them, and the only obvious way to explain it is to address the not-quite-kiss, which, frankly, he doesn't really feel like doing at this precise moment. Or ever, for that matter. Moreover, he still thinks it has to be something else. If Klaus had seen them, he would've known they never kissed.

So what in hell's name is wrong with his brother now?

 

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Caroline doesn't even bother telling anyone before she leaves the compound. When the two sentinels Klaus has following her everywhere try to stop her, she just snaps their necks with a flick of her wrist and continues on her way without skipping a single step. She also doesn’t waste her time trying to hide the bodies. Let Klaus deal with the mess.

She just had to get the hell out of that place for a moment, clear her head. For days now she's been trying to figure out what exactly caused Klaus' temperpalooza, but try as she might, she can't come up with an answer. And it's obviously asking too much to expect him to offer one himself. He's been either completely avoiding her or acting in such an infuriating manner that she would rather smack his head than talk to him. Every time she even so much as attempts to ask what’s wrong with him, he just cuts her off and stalks off with a pout.

It's ironic to say the least that someone who enjoys the sound of his own voice as much as Klaus and is so eloquent when it comes to concocting colorful death threats would have such a hard time using his freaking words when it is most needed.

Of course, there was the whole thing with Elijah, but... Nobody saw them. And nobody told him about it. _And nobody kissed, goddamnit_. If Klaus had somehow been there to witness it, he would've _seen_ that she stopped Elijah, would've _heard_ what she said. Even if he were still mad at Elijah, he wouldn’t be lashing out on her like this.

Caroline didn't do anything wrong. She never asked Elijah to try and kiss her, if that's really why Klaus has been seeing red for days now. She has no reason to feel guilty or to apologize; if anything, _he_ should be the one asking for forgiveness for how he's been treating her. At this point, Caroline just refuses to be the one who'll make a move. If something's bothering him, then Klaus should stop acting like a rebellious teenager and start talking. She may be a witch, but she's not psychic.

Caroline was so on edge on the night of the Harvest ritual, so close to losing it, afraid of the world ending, upset about Elijah and the part she played in how everything turned out, about Davina's death... And all through it, Klaus was a surprisingly comforting presence. He was a rock when she needed him the most, and so incredibly mindful of Marcel's feelings. Caroline believed he was genuinely upset about the girl’s death, if not for his own sake, then for the sake of others, which showed some emotional growth for a change, some much required _empathy_. And then, all of sudden... Nothing. He just snaps again and it’s back to square one.

It just doesn't make any sense.

Caroline is so confused that she can't even muster the ire to feel as offended and hurt as this morning's altercation deserves. If Klaus keeps this up, though, she will certainly get there.

After walking around aimlessly for a while, she finds herself at Rousseau's. It's a little after noon, but the front door looks open, so she steps in.

"Hello?"

Cami stands up from behind the counter. "Caroline!" she greets, beaming. "What a surprise! I don't think I've ever seen you here before. I was just getting all set to open."

"Oh. I can come back -"

"No way! Please!" Cami motions for her to take a seat by the counter.

"Thanks," she says, smiling gratefully at Cami. Only then she notices the place looks like a bit of a mess, and not in the cool-hipster, don’t-really-care vibe. An _actual_ mess. "What happened here?"

Cami rolls her eyes. "Sophie. She's our cook. I heard she was here last night after we closed."

"Oh." Caroline looks down at her hands, splayed on the counter. She hadn't stopped to think about Sophie in all of this. Suddenly, she feels a wave of sympathy for the witch. She looked completely broken after the ritual, when her niece didn’t come back to life as she was supposed to, and while Caroline and Marcel had friends to be there for them, Sophie had no one. She burned all the bridges with her coven as she devoted herself blindly to bringing Monique back to life, even lost her sister. Caroline has no warm feelings for the witch, but she did lose everything to the Harvest. Becoming pregnant has given her a whole new perspective on desperate people willing to go to extreme measures for their loved ones. It was easier to judge before. It was painful to watch Sophie weeping over her niece's dead body, begging the ancestors to resurrect her. No wonder she's gone haywire.

"How's your back?" Cami asks, picking up empty bottles from the counter and the floor.

"I'm surprised you remember that," she mutters. She thought Klaus would have compelled those memories away by now.

"Ouch!" Cami says, her face morphing into a scowl. "Just because I told you about my forgetfulness, doesn't mean I have Alzheimer's, you know."

"I'm sorry. I know, I didn't mean to - I'm... Sorry."

Cami sighs, smiling shortly. "It's ok. You're pregnant, I can cut you some slack."

"Thanks. My head is all over the place this morning. Klaus was being a jackass and I just took it out on you."

"What did he do?"

She shrugs. "Oh, you know. _Klaus_. Grumpy. Rude. Lashing out for no reason."

"You know, you're not the first person I've heard talking about him like that. It's so weird, he's always been so nice to me. I haven't spent that much time with him, but still. I never got that vibe off him, and I'm usually pretty good at reading people."

Caroline feels a twist of anger in her chest. That he would not only compel Cami to forget everything he's told her when she's not in his presence, but to also alter her very opinions on him, make her think he's _nice_ rather than the dick who's been playing with her mind and stealing away her agency, is just — _Ugh_. It’s so unnerving.

She expects that kind of awful behavior from vampires in general. They are, as a rule, cocky bastards with a superiority complex and no regard whatsoever for normal people's lives. Like the whole world is their freaking playground. Cami was just an ordinary girl, living her life, working at a bar to help pay for her studies, until a dickhead walked in and decided he wanted to have her. That was all it took for her life to change completely — and she doesn't even know that! She never got to have a choice over whether she wanted to be a part of this world or not, if she wanted to listen to Klaus' ramblings or not. He just _made_ her. If it had been anyone else, Caroline would be disgusted and annoyed, but that's vampires for you. But it's not just _any_ vampire, it's the man she's having a child with. He's supposed to be a role model for their daughter; instead he's out there acting in the exact same way the man who abused and traumatized her for life did. It's unacceptable.

Her blazing indignation must show on her face, because Cami lifts her hand for Caroline to wait a minute and says, "I have something to cheer you up."

She goes to the kitchen on the back and returns some five minutes later with a proud smile on her face and a beautiful margarita, which she puts down right in front of Caroline.

"Ta-da!"

"Uhm... It looks great, Cami, but aren't you forgetting something?" Caroline raises her eyebrows and points a finger to her stomach.

"Non-alcoholic," she replies, sounding really excited. "Since we talked the other day and you mentioned how gruesome it was to go through all that stress without a single drop of alcohol, I felt your pain. I can hardly imagine going through finals without getting drunk, let alone pregnancy. So I got some recipes off the internet and I've been experimenting. That is my absolute favorite so far. Go on! You'll be my guinea pig."

Caroline takes the margarita glass and inspects it closer. "Are you sure there's no alcohol? It looks legit."

"Just try it."

Caroline sips from the drink and her eyes immediately bulge. "Holy crap!" She drinks again. "Cami! This is _amazing_!" She takes another sip, a longer one this time.

Cami laughs. "I knew you'd like it. It's very close to the real thing, right?"

"Are you kidding me? It's _perfect_! Where were you for the past six months of my life? _God_." Caroline drinks again, making a delightful rumbly noise in her throat. "I could so kiss you right now."

"Ask me again after my shift and a couple of tequila shots and I might take you up on that," Cami says, winking.

"Oh, don't tempt me. I have hormonal horniness all the freaking time."

Cami frowns. "Really?"

"What? You don't think pregnant women get horny?"

"I know they do, I just - I mean, you live with Klaus. You've slept with him, obviously."

"Once."

Cami's big eyes bulge in such a cartoonish way that it gets a snort out of Caroline. "Just _once_? Really?"

"Well, technically it was more like three times, but I only count it as one because it was just one night. And the morning after. It's part of the same pack."

"And then you got pregnant."

"Yup."

"And you guys never...?"

"Nope."

" _Nothing_?"

"Why is this so hard to believe?"

"Because you live together and he's the father of your child and he looks like _that_ and you’re horny. It sounds like the easiest problem to solve in the world. Was it terrible the first time?"

Caroline's mind reels back to six months ago, to that one hot night in Mystic Falls that changed everything. It's stayed with her in torturing richness of detail, as though it was just yesterday. The way Klaus' hands had roamed all over her body, possessive and reverently. How he explored every inch of her skin with his lips. How his soft tongue felt against her own, then down her neck, doing little circles around her nipples, on her belly button... _God_ , he was _really_ unfairly good with his tongue. Everywhere he touched exploded with sensation and heat. It was _electric_.

She senses a slow shudder going up her spine, and focuses her eyes back on Cami, hiding the flush on her cheeks behind her glass. "It was good," she says meekly, and then clears her throat, shifting a little on her seat.

"Just good?"

"Pretty good." Cami cocks her an eyebrow. "All right, it was great," she blurts out. "Best freaking sex I've ever had. There. Happy?" No wonder that woman is a psych major. She just stares at you with her big eyes and stuff starts flowing out. It's like she's got natural compulsion skills or something.

Cami chuckles. "And you haven't felt like revisiting it?"

Caroline sighs, putting the margarita down. _Yes_ , she wants to say. _All the goddamn time_. It's ridiculous how attracted to Klaus she still is, even after all this time. He's admittedly done some things that not even those dimples could fix, but she's caught herself admiring him from afar on more than one occasion. The way he talks, the way he sounds, the way he gesticulates when he gets antsy, the way he smirks... Klaus has the confidence and the faultless grace of a wild thing paired up with the looks of a movie star, and when he walks around in his tight jeans and those Henley's, it's impossible for Caroline not to get _ideas_. He's as wicked as it gets and he comes in a ridiculously alluring package, which is a combination that God has ordained to drive her out of her mind. It's hard to tell sometimes what she wants to do the most; slap him across the face or shut him up with her mouth.

Despite all their fights and differences, there have been _moments_ , really intense ones, where Caroline thinks she wouldn't have resisted him if he'd reached out. Pregnancy has left her more vulnerable than ever — at times, hornier than ever as well — and Klaus has always had a weird effect on her, even before she was willing to acknowledge it, so she can't even blame hormones for it. But the thing is, Klaus walks around like he wants to eyefuck everything, but for all his flirtatious and blunt ways, he hasn't made a single move on her. Which — well, technically, he didn't make any moves on her before either. He made his interest known, but never took any steps beyond that, even when he had the chance. The ball was always on Caroline's court. That was probably his way of being respectful of her wishes, which is strangely endearing, actually. For someone like Klaus, anyway. He curbed all his aggressiveness and alpha male instincts when it came to her — a couple of situations aside, when he'd been trying to annoy Tyler more than anything else. It could be that he's adopting the same tactics now, letting her decide when she's ready. But sometimes all a girl wants is to be swept off her feet and not have to overthink. The more chance he gives her to ponder over their rare circumstances, the more hesitant she becomes… and the crazier he acts, the further away from ever going there she gets. Caroline's not going to play the desperate, horny lady, begging for attention. Especially when he's doing things such as his little tantrum this morning. It completely kills any mood.

"It's complicated," she says simply.

Cami hums in understanding. "And with a baby... It must be tough to find balance."

"Exactly. I have to think of the baby first. Whatever _thing_ we had in the past, we're gonna have to find a way to coexist peacefully for the sake of our daughter. I don't know if sex would help much." _Although it would definitely help _me__.

Cami disappears around the back for a moment and returns with a mixer to refill Caroline's glass. "I think you really need a respite."

"You have no idea." She drinks again, shutting her eyes and pretending for a second that she's getting drunk on it. It does wonders to calm her down. "I will be eternally in your debt for this."

"What are friends for, right?" Cami winks at her again and goes back to her chores.

An idea flickers through Caroline's mind. A bold one. Even risky, maybe. She's never done it before, and she knows it takes an absurd amount of power, which she just might have thanks to the little extra battery growing inside of her. She's pretty certain she saw something in one of Klaus' grimoires, and it didn't seem impossible, just... long and arduous. And painful, probably. But it's worth a try.

"Listen, Cami," she starts. "Are you doing anything tonight?"

"My shift ends at eight and then I'm totally free. Why?"

"How do you feel about coming over to the compound?"

"You want me to talk to Klaus for you?"

"Oh, God, no. No Klaus. In fact, don't even tell him. Let's make it a secret girls' night."

Cami grins. "I like the sound of that. Count me in."

 

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"Wait. You're telling me he let Thierry Vanchure out of the garden? On his own orders, not Marcel's?" Elijah asks as he walks with Rebekah. She had a sudden craving for gumbo and he agreed to meet her for lunch. It's not every day vampires sit down for a proper family meal, and after their conversation on the road, he thinks these tiny moments might be exactly what Rebekah needs to feel more connected to their family. Besides, it was a good excuse to stay away from the torment that is their brother's mood.

"Yes. I just helped him out myself."

"I'm surprised," Elijah says. It was very unexpected, indeed, especially since Klaus orchestrated Thierry's imprisonment — and killed his girlfriend, which is not to be forgotten. Thierry was once Marcel's right hand man, and Klaus usually has a very hard time trusting people whose allegiances has already been claimed by others. "I didn't think it was like Niklaus to show mercy to an enemy, especially not in a day like today. Maybe that's progress."

Rebekah scoffs. "Please, Elijah. Who do you think convinced Klaus to let Thierry out?"

"Why would you do such a thing?"

"Because despite Klaus' reprieve, Thierry despises him. I like that about Thierry, it's good to have an ally who's not all but ready to come crawling whenever our brother snaps his fingers. I also like that Thierry used to date a witch, so he knows all about French Quarter covens. Maybe he can lead me to whoever stole off with the Harvest magic."

"Rebekah, we are all devastated by the outcome of this ritual -"

"That's just it, there was no outcome," his sister cuts him off with a bite in her voice. "We both know power like that doesn't just vanish. Caroline brought it to my attention, and she's absolutely right. Someone stole it, I'd like to know who, and then I'd like to make an ally out of them."

Elijah stops walking. "To what end, exactly?"

Rebekah turns back to face him. "I'm tired of being threatened and controlled by our tyrant brother. If you want to stop a bully, you need the power to stand up to them."

Elijah sighs. "I expect such behavior from Niklaus. It is so very disappointing when it comes from you, Rebekah."

"Why are you defending him still?"

"Do you not see that, in his way, he's making an effort here? He's invited us back into our family home. He yearns for our family to be reunited."

"For how long?" she quips with indignation. "It's his trick, Elijah. He lulls you into a false sense of camaraderie and kinship and then he turns on you like a snake. I fall for it every time and wind up with a dagger in my chest for my trouble, and so do you. He's already starting to change back. You saw him this morning. He was impossible. Who knows what madness he's got cooking up in that head of his? No more."

"He was indeed a little out of himself this morning -"

"Out of himself? You mean a little too _into_ himself."

"- but I think he's approaching some semblance of peace here. Leadership may, in fact, be a good thing for him." Rebekah shakes her head and turns around to leave. "Now, sister, please," he adds quickly, prompting her to stop. "I ask you, if you cannot support him, then at least do nothing to provoke him."

Rebekah gives him a look that says she's 100% against Elijah's non-aggression approach to Niklaus and then stalks away. It's hard enough to control Niklaus' impulsiveness, if he has to deal with Rebekah as well, they're as good as doomed.

He continues his walk back to the compound by himself, all the while thinking about what Rebekah could possibly levy against their brother with this Thierry man. She should know better than to try and pick on him when he's already in the mood for a fight. Niklaus doesn't usually measure his response to being provoked, and if he puts Rebekah back in a coffin for treason, Elijah will have very little to use in her defense if she is, indeed, colluding with the enemy. _Again_.

Just when they finally appeared to be reaching a plateau, after months and months of an arduous climb up a steep hill...

Elijah's determined to understand what's behind Klaus' awful mood of late, but he finds something much more worrisome waiting for him than Niklaus' fangs when he arrives back at the compound.

"What is happening here?" he inquires, and Diego and Klaus both step aside so he can get a good look at what they were discussing over. Two vampires lay dead on the floor. Elijah crouches down beside the bodies. There are no signs of injuries or attacks - except for a distinctive mark carved on each of their foreheads. Marks Elijah knows only too well, and that he hasn't seen in almost a century.

"Who did this?"

"We don't know yet," Diego says.

"Whoever did it, they will die for this," Klaus adds.

"Remarkably, I don't disagree," Elijah replies. "However I would like to know where they learned such dark magic. I had hoped never to see that symbol again." Elijah stands up to his feet and exchanges a concerned look with his brother. At least on that regard they seem to be on the same page.

"I recall it is the signature of a fool who once stood against us. Clearly some upstart witch is salvaging old tricks. I'll do for him, as I did the other. Diego, when night falls I want you to gather every vampire in the Quarter. Get me the head of whoever did this and put it on a stick."

"Yeah, that's gonna be a problem," Diego says, taking a clever step back from Niklaus. "Everyone is freaked out, man. We haven't had witches killing vampires in a long time. Marcel made sure of that."

"Marcel has run off like a scared child. You lot are left with me," his brother hisses back at his minion in what sounds a lot more like a threat than the pep talk the scared vampires clearly need.

"Have you asked Caroline?" Elijah cuts in.

"Now why would I do that?"

"She's a witch."

"Not a very useful one."

Elijah's brow furrows into a scowl. "I don't know where this is coming from, brother, but I'm sure it's just one of those awful things you sometimes say without really meaning, so I'll let it pass as a slip. You have a witch you can trust right under your roof and you do not consult with her when one of your men shows up with marks of dark magic carved into his flesh?"

A shadow crosses his brother's eyes. "She's not a French Quarter witch, knows nearly nothing about them, as she's remarked herself in many occasions."

"Perhaps you should -"

" _I don't want her opinion!_ " he snarls. "If you're also a coward like this lot here, brother, then by all means. Stay back _consulting_ with your witch. I'll handle this myself."

Elijah watches as his brother storms off — alone, since none of the other vampires are apparently willing to follow.

"Diego, do you have any idea why he’s been acting like that?"

The vampire shrugs. "Isn't he always like that?"

 

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"There you are."

Caroline lifts her head from the drawings she's been analyzing and smiles at Elijah.

"The vampires said you _escaped_?"

"Drama queens," she replies, rolling her eyes. "I just snapped a few necks and went for a walk. They'll be fine," she says, going back to flipping through the pile of papers stacked on Davina's bed. She occupied this room for such a little time, but it's hard to think about it as anything but hers. Turns out she had many more sketches than the ones Elijah put together to form Celeste's face. But all appear to be about the same thing: a portent of something evil.

"How was Mystic Falls?" she asks, trying not to sound too eager.

"Same as I remember," he replies, smiling.

"Is everyone ok?"

"I believe so."

Caroline nods. "And Katherine?"

"Dead. She wasn't when I left, but I got a text from Stefan saying she died not long after."

"Didn't you want to stay for the funeral? Or did they just dump her in an unmarked grave in the middle of the woods or something?"

"They promised me they'd give her a decent burial. But I thought it would be better if I didn't stay long."

"Why not?"

Elijah regards her thoughtfully for a moment. "It just didn't seem appropriate. They weren't very comfortable with my presence, clearly."

Caroline hums. "Well, for what is worth, I'm sorry. I was _not_ a fan of Katherine's, but... Klaus said you two... Had a thing or something."

"Or something," he says, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. "You're going through Davina's drawings?"

"Yeah. A little morbid, I know. I was just thinking we never figured out why she drew those pictures of Celeste. It just felt like it was important and now she's gone..." she trails off, leaves it at that.

"Did you hear anything about the vampires found dead near the cauldron?"

"I heard _something_ , though it wasn't very coherent. Your brother yelled at me for leaving unsupervised like I’m a six year-old and then grumbled about a vampire lockdown. I assumed something happened, but I don't know what and, frankly, I didn't feel like prolonging the conversation to find out."

"Two vampires were found with marks carved into their foreheads."

"What kind of marks?"

"Very old symbols once used by a witch who had a few problems with our family, many years ago."

"Oh? Is it possible that it's the same person?"

"No, Niklaus killed him. I think we're dealing with a copycat here, but one with clear intentions, if he's sending that kind of message. Anyway, you have nothing to be worried about. Whoever did this, we will deal with them. It won't be long."

Caroline shrugs. "I'm not worried. Not about this, anyway."

"He'll calm down," Elijah offers, almost like he can read her mind. "Niklaus is like that sometimes. Something happens, he acts up and then he regrets it terribly."

"Yeah, well. I'm only sorry that it's taken your brother acting like a jackass for us to talk like normal people again."

"Perhaps we shouldn't. You'll recall that even our slightest interactions seem to infuriate him. Maybe that's why."

"So? Because he's a dick we can't hang out?"

"Not because of him, Caroline." Elijah gazes at her with undisguised affection and Caroline gets that feeling in her throat again.

This is what she was so afraid of. That the elephant in the room would ruin everything once it was no longer possible to ignore it. Caroline can't imagine how she'll ever survive in New Orleans with Klaus acting up the way he is and Elijah not speaking to her — or worse, leaving town altogether. But she also feels incredibly selfish demanding anything from him. They should've talked sooner, things should've been clearer from the start, now it's too late to undo the damage. And if Elijah would be better off staying away from her... Then there's nothing she can do but let him go.

"So we can't be friends anymore," she says, but it winds up sounding more like a question.

"That's not what I meant. I just... Might need a minute."

She nods. "I can give you a minute."

Elijah smiles, and she finds herself smiling back. Not yet relieved, but... It's a start. If only it were so simple to sort things out with the other brother.

"I actually came to find you with a purpose," Elijah says, sounding as glad as she feels for the change of subject. "I was wondering if you could take a look at the vampires. Perhaps you've seen something like those marks before."

"Yes, _please_. Get me out of this room." She stands to her feet, motioning her arms towards the door. "Show me the way."

 

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"My verdict is that this is creepy as hell," Caroline says after a closer inspection of the symbol on the dead vampires. As she tries to stand to her feet, she nearly falls back, but Elijah manages to catch her. "Thanks," she says. "The watermelon here has been tipping me out of balance"

"So you don't recognize those marks?"

"Not really. But I have a good guess."

"Please."

"Well, I've seen something similar once, a very long time ago, when I stole one of my father's grimoires to try and teach myself some magic. Enough to say it was the wrong grimoire to steal. Very old-school magic, rooted in sacrificial stuff. But I did learn a few things. Some runes are attached to certain effects. You can use a symbol to tie a sacrifice to what you want. I don't know what _this_ does, but... Vampires are extremely powerful sources of supernatural energy. My guess is, if you're sacrificing a vampire, you want their power. And the more you kill, the more powerful you get."

Elijah looks back at the two dead vampires. He remembers the witch who used that symbol back in the day, Papa Tunde. Showed up late to the party and decided he wanted his share of the money and the power in the city. It took them years to find a balance, establish agreements with all the factions. New Orleans was in perfect harmony, with both him and Niklaus at the helm of the ship and everyone else getting their fair share. Then in walked this witch, mad with greed, demanding a slice of something he'd never participated in. They don't even know where he came from, only that one day he stormed one of their meetings, followed closely by two twin boys with this same symbol carved on their foreheads.

Papa Tunde didn't spare anyone is his thirst for control. He slaughtered humans, werewolves, vampires, even witches, and promised he'd do the same to the Mikaelsons. Except they weren't as easy to kill as the rest of them, and Niklaus wasn't as forgiving. Elijah suggested they should negotiate, hear his terms, try to reach a bottom line they could work with before the city spiraled out of control once more. He even offered Papa Tunde a truce. But Klaus, being Klaus, had none of it. His brother would not tolerate to have his hand forced into a deal. And, as many before him, Papa Tunde clearly underestimated Niklaus' disposition for power-plays.

The day Klaus killed him, he started by beheading the two boys. It made the witch considerably weaker. Their guess at the time had been somewhat close to Caroline's: that Papa Tunde had been using the twins to channel their power in order to strengthen himself. Except then he’d kept the boys alive.

If she is right, and it sounds like she could very well be, this copycat could be using the same principle, but with a different intent. He strengthens himself by killing the vampires and absorbing _all_ of their power at once. So far, those are the only ones that have been reported missing, at least among Marcel's men — now Niklaus'.

But the ritual, however it is performed, clearly kills them. This means they only offer a limited source of power. In order to achieve unlimited energy, he'd have to find something greater than a vampire.

Like an Original.

He hasn't seen Rebekah since she left him on the street on their way back to the compound.

Elijah fishes his phone out of his pocket and dials his sister. It goes straight into voicemail.

"Rebekah's not answering her calls."

"You're worried about whoever killed those daywalkers still being out there, looking for more victims?"

"Frankly, I'm afraid she might have something to do with this."

Caroline blinks at him. "What?"

"She is very displeased with Niklaus, perhaps even conspiring with others."

Elijah's eyes roam around the courtyard. It's mostly empty, now that Niklaus threatened all the vampires who refused to follow him. The ones that aren’t still working for him have disappeared from sight, accurately afraid of retaliation. But his gaze quickly finds the one he’s looking for, calmly having a drink by himself.

There's absolutely nothing about Thierry Vanchure that strikes the eye; mediocre in every way. Even the clothes he's wearing seem dull. Elijah cannot imagine why his sister would ever choose to form an alliance with someone like him. Then again, she went all the way to Virginia just to see that quarterback; perhaps she’s developed a taste for the inconspicuous in their years of separation.

"Thierry, is it?" he asks, approaching the man.

"Yeah, that's right," he says, not without some hesitation.

"You know, my sister is rather fond of you. Strange; she's not typically drawn to unremarkable men. Would you care to explain your sudden magnetism?"

"I don't know what you're -"

Before he can finish what is certain to be an appalling excuse, Elijah has his hand around his throat, pinning him against a wall.

"You can either tell me what you know or I can distribute tiny pieces of you throughout the Quarter."

"Elijah!" Caroline calls out reprovingly. He lets out a sigh and slackens his grip around Thierry's neck enough for him to breathe, but not to escape.

"She asked me to keep an eye out on witch stuff," Thierry answers in a shaky tone. "I found something and when I showed it to her we were jumped by some guy. He desiccated her with his touch."

Elijah smashes his head against the wall. "And like a coward, you left her," he hisses.

"What was I supposed to do?! Fight some warlock that took out an Original?!"

"Where was this, exactly?" Caroline asks — no longer reprehending Elijah for his treatment of Thierry, he notices.

"The docks. Warehouse 57. I was just doing what she asked. You cannot tell Klaus about this," he pleads, looking at Caroline. Even this riffraff who spent months walled in knows of his brother’s soft spot for her.

Elijah lifts him off the floor and throws him across the room as though he were a bag of trash. Thierry lets out a low whimper as his body hits the wall and then falls unconscious to the floor.

"I shall take that under consideration," Elijah remarks drily before starting for the door.

"I'm coming with you."

"No. Stay here. The compound is safe."

"Rebekah's in trouble. I'm going."

Caroline tries to walk past him, but Elijah holds her arm and pulls her back. Before he can tell her all the ways it is a terrible idea to subject herself to an unknown threat that is likely drunk on Original energy right now, Niklaus materializes beside them.

"I'll go," he says, simply, his face a mask of impassiveness.

Caroline shakes Elijah's hand off. "What I told him serves you, too. Rebekah is in trouble. I am going," she repeats, in a low measured tone.

Elijah exchanges a look with his brother. Clearly vexed, but knowing when he's been defeated, he says, "Do not leave my sight. Understand?"

Caroline gives him a firm nod, and then they leave.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

On the bright side, they're very quick to find Rebekah. She's exactly where Thierry said he last saw her, warehouse 57.

And that's about where the good news end.

Her heart skips a couple of essential beats at the sight of Rebekah — her _friend_ — dead at the center of a sacrificial spell. It's not every day something manages to take down an Original vampire, and the sheer amount of black magic in the air makes Caroline shudder. She can feel it in her bones, a cold shiver rushing up her spine and making every hair on her body stand to attention. It takes a huge amount of power for magic to become almost tangible like this and it seems like the power in question is coming straight from Rebekah.

She's lying on the ground, in the middle of a circle made out of rock salt and candles. At first sight, it looks like a regular boundary spell, but it isn't. Caroline immediately notices the blood on the floor and the drawings underneath Rebekah's body. She's the sacrifice in a dark magic ritual, but because she can't really die, the magic just keeps on draining all of her life energy and supernatural power, feeding whoever's behind the ritual through the mark carved on her forehead.

Pure evil, but quite smart. This person knows what they’re doing.

Klaus rushes to his sister, but the magic holds him out of the circle. "I can't get through!" he snarls.

"It's a boundary spell," she says, her voice deceptively calm as she combs through her memory after everything she's ever seen about this kind of magic. Granted, it's not a lot. No decent witch dabbles with this stuff, and back in Mystic Falls she didn't even have anyone to properly teach her. Her dad did own a bunch of books on it, though, which says a lot about the kind of person he was. But she was ten when she used to sneak into his study room to peruse through his grimoires in the middle of the night. Being a strictly natural magic witch is suddenly making her very frustrated. "Someone's channeling her," she continues as she walks around the circle, looking for a weak link. "This would be lethal to anyone, but because she's an Original, she can't die."

"How do we get her out?"

"This is a convoluted spell," she says, an idea sparking to life in her brain. "Everything in the circle is connected, added in perfect measures to make the barrier impenetrable at the same time it keeps her down. But... I can spoil the balance by adding something more potent to break the effect."

"Like what?"

"Like a mystical binding agent. I don't know, like... Volcanic ash, crystals, eye of newt."

"We're unfortunately a little short on that at the moment, love," Klaus grunts impatiently.

Caroline stops, chewing on her lower lip. _Come on, Caroline. Think, think..._

"Blood," she blurts out all of a sudden. "Blood is a mystical agent."

Klaus barely waits for her to finish talking before he's pulling his sleeves up, ready to sink his teeth into his own arm. "No," Caroline stops him. "It has to be the blood of a witch." She stretches her arm out in front of him and Klaus hesitates, giving her a dubious look. "We don't have a knife, Klaus. Just bite," she presses.

He keeps his eyes on her the whole time as he holds her arm and touches his mouth to the inside of her wrist. Caroline gets a rush of electricity when his lips touch her skin, but then she grimaces and makes a little noise at the back of her throat as his fangs cut into her flesh. The pain lasts but a second, though, just long enough for Klaus to puncture her skin and the blood to start flowing. She pulls her hand away and turns to the circle, squeezing her arm around the bite mark for the blood to fall exactly on top of the salt line. It sizzles as though it were burning, a strong smell of sulfur filling the air, and then it stops.

"It's done," she announces. Klaus darts into the circle, putting his arms under his sister and lifting her off the floor to remove her from the spell. As soon as she's out, the mark carved on her forehead begins to disappear, healing, and some color returns to her cheeks.

A flicker passes across Klaus' face, something Caroline can't really understand, but the way his shoulders sag in relief needs no translation. She feels exactly the same way, not having realized just how tense she was until she finally let go. Their eyes meet for just a heartbeat, comfort and understanding and maybe even gratefulness passing between them, then Klaus turns away and walks back to the car.

Caroline takes one last look at the circle drawn on the floor. Human sacrifice is the darkest part of magic. There are consequences to performing these types of rituals, and the price is usually high. Magic has a life of its own; it's an energy that flows through the person wielding it, and the darker the magic, the more damage it makes. It consumes the witch, suffocating the soul, bit by bit. The stronger the person gets, the more power they crave, the more the magic controls them, like an addiction. Very few witches who dare cross that line are able to come back from the abyss. Caroline's father never did. Once they get there, there's absolutely nothing they wouldn't do to get what they want. Even torturing their own children.

Marcel's vampires, Sophie Deveraux, even Agnes... Caroline has a feeling they were nothing compared to this new threat they are yet to face.

 

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Caroline insists on getting Rebekah a blood bag when they return to the compound, but Klaus knows that's not really what his sister would want. For the sake of not hurting Caroline's delicate sensibilities, he allows her to feed Rebekah with that cold, dull liquid, already planning on going out for a snack later on. Truth be told, he could use some hunting to take the edge off. Klaus has been dying to sink his teeth into something warm and horrified since this morning. It's a wonder he's managed to satiate his rage with just the aid of alcohol so far.

The mystery surrounding the two dead vampires and Rebekah's kidnapping has kept him properly occupied as well. As soon as his sister has recovered, he'd like to have a word. Whoever is playing these games will be stopped and made an example of. They chose the wrong time to provoke Klaus. He's definitely not in the mood to be merciful.

He goes into his study to have a drink while he waits for Rebekah to reestablish herself and finds a little war council already waiting for him there. Elijah, Marcel and the witch Sophie, all looking sour and grim.

"Who died now?" he asks, moving to the desk to pour himself a glass of bourbon. He definitely cannot handle the inquisition court dry.

"The more appropriate question would be, who didn't?" Elijah retorts.

Just listening to his brother's voice sets Klaus’ teeth on edge. He's been holding himself back since Elijah's return not to destroy his traitorous pretty face with his bare hands. He didn’t have to stay to see what happened between him and Caroline after all; the colorful imagery appears unbidden in his mind. His brother's lips touching Caroline's, her hands winding through his hair, those little pleasure moans Klaus knows so well, Elijah's hands on her skin — it's usually when he reaches that part he starts to either break things or drink more furiously. It's been like that for days.

How could they dare to look him in the eye after that? How could Caroline act so nonplussed and insulted at his rightful acrimony? _Perhaps nothing happened_ , his mind offers. How desperately he wants to believe it... But even if nothing happened — even if, by some joyful twist of fate, they ended up not kissing — Elijah at the very least tried to.

His _noble_ brother... Klaus knew he'd regret inviting his siblings back into their family home, he just hoped it wouldn't be for this reason. Anything else he might've been able to forgive. But not this. Not Caroline. And Klaus knows his brother. If Elijah felt even the flimsiest weight of guilt in his conscience, he'd confess and beg for forgiveness. If he hasn't, it's because he either doesn't regret it, or Caroline reciprocates his feelings.

So Klaus either loses his brother, or he loses them both.

It's the only reason why he's held back on revenge, why he hasn't yet allowed for the venom that's lodged in his throat to come spilling out. There's a new threat hovering above their home, and, as apocalyptically angry as he is, the last thing Klaus wants is for Caroline to leave. He's too scared to find out that the truth is as he suspects, that she has fallen for the other Mikaelson — the _better_ Mikaelson — and so if keeping her safe and under his protection means keeping Elijah's wretched presence as well, so be it.

For now, at least.

Retribution will come in due time. And it will be as terrible as the ache in Klaus' heart. Not even his brother will be spared.

Klaus knocks back his drink tastelessly, puts the glass down with a thud, and whirls around to face the three glum looking faces in his study. "What is this about?"

"Marcel was attacked by our witch," Elijah starts. "Nearly killed, too. If I hadn't made it there on time -"

"Who was it?" Klaus cuts him off, turning to Marcel. He only now notices how shaken the man seems to be.

"Papa Tunde," Marcel replies, his voice low and grave.

"That’s impossible. I killed him with my own hands."

"He's back. With a vengeance."

"And quite strong, as well. A lot more than I recalled. He managed to take me on rather easily — Marcellus barely had any fighting chance. But just as he was about to finish me off, something harmed him. He lost his power, and I was able to strike him down. Correct me if I'm wrong, brother, but you just rescued Rebekah from a witch trap, did you not?"

"Yes," Klaus agrees, knowing where Elijah's going. Freeing Rebekah from the magic circle didn't just save his sister; it cut Tunde's access to the magic and saved Marcel and Elijah as well. He was lucky to have Caroline there with him. Suddenly he regrets calling her a _useless witch_. Not that he ever meant it, but she just proved her cunning and worth yet again by saving the lives of his entire family at once.

He might thank her for it, if only she hadn’t been snogging his brother.

"Perfect timing, I would say," Elijah adds.

"Anyone cares to explain why a witch I killed a hundred years ago has come back for revenge? Sophie?"

"Oh, come on," Sophie says. "You haven't figured it out yet? Resurrected witches with vast powers? It's the Harvest. Four girls were meant to die and be reborn. I don't know how, but someone jacked that power and they used it to bring back four witches. Just not the right ones."

"So there's still a chance," Marcel cuts in with a hopeful tune. "If we can get that power back, we can still save Davina."

"Let's concentrate on the immediate problem, shall we?" Klaus shuts him down. "Papa Tunde wants revenge. He'll continue to attack us, channeling power from the vampires he sacrifices. He kills, he grows more dangerous, and if he ever manages to get his hands on another one of us, I have a feeling he'll be more careful as to not let us escape. So the question is... How do I end him?"

"He needs sacrifices to gain power. You keep him from killing any more nightwalkers, that's a start," Sophie says, simply.

"Unless," Klaus says, as a vile thought occurs to him, glancing at Marcel. "He finds the one place with a load of helpless vampires ready to be sacrificed."

Marcel's eyes fill with horror as he realizes what Klaus means.

The infamous _garden_ , where Marcel has buried dozens of vampires over the decades, left there to slowly starve and desiccate. All of them alive, but too weak to even attempt to escape. And right under their feet.

The three of them flash away to the dungeons under the compound and, just as Klaus suspected, someone else made it there before them. Every single one of the vampires has been killed — all of them marked with Tunde's symbol.

He won't even need to risk himself by trying to subdue an Original now. He has the power of dozens and dozens of vampires.

"I know Papa Tunde is the most pressing issue at the moment," Elijah starts. "But four witches were supposed to be resurrected. Tunde is one of them. Where are the other three?"

Just when he thought he was finally rid of his witch problem...

"Bloody witches," Klaus mutters.

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With everything that happened, Caroline almost forgets that she invited Cami over to the compound. She considers taking a rain check, but the busy day might actually work in their favor.

As soon as Rebekah was able to stand on her feet, she was out of the house like a thunder. Caroline expected her to be at least a little shaken by what happened, maybe even concerned, but she was angry out of her mind, asking where the hell was _that coward_. Thierry, probably. She wouldn't want to be in that guy's shoes when Rebekah finds him. It serves him right, though, for leaving her alone and not even warning anybody. If Elijah hadn't pressed him, he would've let Rebekah wither away forever at the warehouse, and then god knows what would've happened to Elijah and Marcel.

The oldest Original came to find her to ask how it'd been with Klaus. He also wanted to speak to his sister, but she was nowhere to be found. Caroline told him everything, and then Elijah shared the news about the _copycat_ , which turned out not to be a copycat at all, but the very same witch Klaus killed one hundred years ago, now back from the underworld to haunt them. Papa Tunde, he said. Apparently he uses a blade which is infused with some kind of dark magic to mark his victims. Sophie Deveraux was _politely_ invited over to help elucidate the mystery and she was emphatic: it was the Harvest. As Caroline already knew, the ritual worked exactly as it should, except someone hijacked the spell to bring back the wrong witches instead of the four girls who were sacrificed. Which means Papa Tunde is not the only all-powerful witch who's risen from the depths of hell and, so far, no one knows what they want for sure, just that they came back with a vengeance.

There's never a boring day in New Orleans, that's for certain.

She'll have plenty of time to worry about resurrected witches from hell, though. It'll likely be the talk of the house for the next so many weeks, even months maybe. For now, there's nothing she can do about any of it and Klaus and Elijah are all up in arms trying to figure out what Papa Tunde could possibly want — besides revenge, obviously. Klaus didn't just kill him, he also killed his twin sons, which makes Caroline and the baby a perfect target.

Nobody makes enemies quite like Klaus; his talent for pissing people off is unrivaled.

Caroline promised she wouldn't be going anywhere and Elijah seemed satisfied. So he left to find Rebekah while Klaus disappeared with Marcel. When Cami called, Caroline went to the back door to let her in. This time, she didn't even have to snap the necks of the guys watching the entrance, just distract them by pretending to know nothing about what happened with the murdered vampires while Cami slipped in, totally unnoticed. She really needs to have a conversation with Klaus about his sentinels. They're _awful_. With people like Papa Tunde going around murdering vampires and Originals alike, they might want to look into increasing the efficacy of the security systems in place.

"What -" Cami tries to speak, but Caroline shuts her up with a gesture and motions for her to follow.

They walk in silence all the way to her bedroom, paying attention not to be seen by anyone.

As soon as they're in, Caroline locks the door, lights up all the candles she left spread around the room and burns the sage she'd prepared, murmuring a few words as she does it. She has the Original mother to thank for this spell. She and Bonnie spent an entire afternoon trying to replicate this enchantment after Elena told them about it, when she had her secret meeting with Esther during her homecoming ball from hell. It's simple, but very clever. To think of all the amazing tricks she could've learned from Esther if only she wasn't a psychopath... Oh, well. Sooner or later she'll convince Klaus to let her borrow the old witch's grimoire. For now, this incredibly useful privacy spell will do.

"Ok, we can speak now," she says, finally turning to a very confused looking Cami.

"Are we doing anything illegal? Cause I'm all in, I'd just like to get a little heads up."

"Nothing illegal."

"What's with all the secrecy, then? And the... burning leaves, I guess? Is that pot?"

"I wish,” she says, shaking her head. “Ok. What I'm about to tell you is gonna sound completely crazy, but I need you to bear with me."

"Promising start."

Caroline takes a deep breath, bracing herself for what's about to happen. She motions for Cami to sit down on the bed and pulls a chair for herself, facing the other woman.

"Your forgetfulness? Missing entire chunks of your days? All those whims to do weird things that seem to come out of nowhere?"

"Yeah, my craziness."

"You're not crazy, Cami. And I can help fix it."

"You can?"

"Yes. Cami... You're being compelled."

Cami's brow bunches. "Compelled?"

"Yes," she says. "By Klaus."

Cami peers at her like she's waiting for the other shoe to drop and then starts laughing. "Look, Klaus is a good looking guy, the accent is definitely charming, but... Not that compelling. No offense."

"No, not like that. Compulsion is a vampire trick. They use it to control people, normal people. They can tell you what to think, what to do - and what to remember."

"I'm sorry - Did you just say vampire?" Caroline nods. "As in... Klaus is a vampire?"

"Actually, he's a hybrid."

"A hybrid? Like a Prius?"

"A supernatural Prius. Half vampire, half werewolf. The first of his kind."

Cami bursts into laughter again. People spend their entire lives _desperate_ to believe that there is something more to this world and to life itself than it meets the eye, but they always laugh when you try to tell them the truth. Their first impulse is to remain skeptical. Having always been a part of it, growing up in a city like Mystic Falls, where the town council is trained on vampire hunting techniques, Caroline can't really understand how the supernatural might seem so impossible. Weird, inexplicable things happen all the time, if only you're paying attention. She thought maybe Cami would be easier to convince, considering she's been around abnormal behavior for months now. Apparently, though, not so much.

"I told you it was going to sound crazy," she says.

"Wow, you're _really_ serious," Cami says, reigning herself in. "Ok, I'm sorry." She pulls herself together, clears her throat and looks straight into Caroline's eyes, making a stupendous effort to keep a straight face. "Assuming what you're saying is... somewhat... true -"

"It is 100% true."

"Why would Klaus want to compel me?"

"Honestly? I don't know. He says it's because he's been telling you things he doesn't want you to remember afterward. Personal things."

"Well, yes. He hired me as his stenographer. It's assumed that he's going to tell me personal things."

"Name one thing he's told you."

Cami opens her mouth like the answer is at the tip of her tongue, but then her brow furrows and she snaps her mouth back shut. "I... can't." Caroline arches an eyebrow. "Oh my God, I can't remember anything."

"Exactly. Because he compels you to forget everything when you're not with him. If he were to walk in right now, you'd instantly remember." Caroline pauses, licking her lower lip. "And also... He was kind of using you as a spy."

"Spy? Who am I supposed to be spying on?"

"Marcel." Cami's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. "Klaus and Marcel... They have history. And it's very complicated. Right now, they're kind of at war. Sometimes with each other, sometimes with other people. So Klaus compelled you to go out with Marcel so you'd bring him sensitive information."

Cami's face drops, and Caroline realizes she's finally starting to look concerned. As impossible as the story sounds, it makes sense.

"Is Marcel a hybrid too?" she asks after a moment.

"No, he's a vampire."

Cami laughs again, but this time it's a nervous laughter. "I'm sorry, I can't. This is too..." she trails off, waving a hand in front of her face.

"I can break the compulsion, and you'll remember everything. All the bits you've been missing, everything Klaus has ever said to you, all the things he made you forget — you'll remember."

"How? Are you... Are you one, too?"

"I'm a witch."

"A... witch?"

Caroline shuts her eyes, concentrating, and a second later all the candles in the room are spitting fire like a flamethrower. Cami gasps, flinching, and when Caroline opens her eyes again, the candles go back to normal.

Cami stares at her with wide eyes and an open mouth.

"Did you... Were you...?" She nods. Cami swallows. "Oh God. You're telling the truth, aren't you? Everything... It's real." Caroline gives her an apologetic smile, but she can sense Cami's starting to get freaked out, just as she was that day, several months ago, when Klaus dared to tell her about vampires. It makes her wonder whether Caroline’s doing the right thing, helping her remember. Perhaps the compulsion, in her case, was for the best, after all. Maybe the reason why Klaus had been keeping her under compulsion is because he knew she couldn't handle knowing the truth.

 _No_. There is no circumstance where compelling someone against their will is a good thing. Unless they're under threat, there is no excuse. It should be Cami's decision whether she wants to keep those memories or not.

"You said you can... lift the compulsion?" Cami asks, tentatively.

"Yes. But I have to warn you... It's going to hurt."

"How bad?"

"Pretty bad. Klaus is incredibly powerful, so his compulsion runs very deep, and he's been doing this to you for months. Not gonna lie to you, Cami, it's probably gonna hurt like a bitch. It's why I'm using the sage — the burning leaves. It's a privacy spell. No one will be able to hear us outside this room."

"You mean like I'll be screaming?"

Caroline makes a face, giving a light shrug of her shoulders. "Look, I understand this is a lot. If you need some time to think about it, it's ok. We can do this another time, whenever you're ready."

"No," Cami says, clenching her jaw as her voice wavers. "If what you're saying is true... I want to know. I wanna do this. Let's do it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Where do you want me?"

Caroline cracks her neck, takes a deep breath. "All right. Just close your eyes." And then she starts chanting.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Rebekah waits until the very last second, when Thierry rounds a corner and walks into a deserted street, to sneak up on him. She grabs him by his collar and smashes him back against the wall. Following his traitorous arse for an hour and holding back on ending him there and then was a torment.

"I should rip out your coward heart!" she spits at his face as he whimpers. How could she ever think that she could count on such a weak, weak man? How could Marcel ever trust him? He's not a vampire, he's a mouse.

"What, Rebekah? We made a deal to take out your brother, but at the end of the day it's every man for himself."

She grunts, feeling her blood boiling in her veins. If she hadn't just fed, she'd bleed him dry right here. Rebekah pushes him away and he tumbles, fighting to regain his balance.

"I am so sick of self-serving narcissists! Are men simply incapable of committing to an alliance?"

Thierry's neck snaps with a loud crack, and then Elijah is standing in front of her, a curl on his lips saying she's about to get lectured.

"I asked you to cease these petty moves against our family and yet you conspire with this fool. Is this what it's come to? Making moves against your own blood?"

"Don't you try to shame me," she retorts with fire in her voice. "Nik grows more powerful by the day, and you do nothing but encourage him."

"I offer him my counsel because it's clear to me that he needs to make the city our home. Perhaps leading some of these derelicts," he says, nearly spitting out the word as he motions vaguely towards Thierry's body. "Will curb some of these impulses, grant him some degree of happiness -"

"You always talk of Nik's _happiness_ ," Rebekah cuts in. "But for a thousand years he has robbed me of any chance at my own. What about me, Elijah? Am I not a concern for you?" her voice cracks around the edges, her eyes burning with tears threatening to come.

Rebekah's known for a very long time that, perhaps out of guilt for having stood by in fear for years while their father abused and tortured Nik, Klaus has always been the all and all in Elijah's life. There were very brief moments throughout the centuries where the two of them were apart, or when Elijah dared to find a life for himself. And it all ended the exact same way: with Nik acting up to draw their brother back. It works like a charm.

Rebekah understands Elijah's sense of responsibility; it's who he is, a family man and a caretaker. She even understands why he'd be more concerned over Nik than the rest of them. But it still stings to know that Nik's well-being is _all_ he cares about, even if his happiness comes at the expense of others'. And it's especially thorny knowing that the feeling is not mutual; Nik cares about no one but himself, and he wouldn't bat an eyelid before putting them both back in coffins for centuries if he sees fit.

She's so _tired_ of living the life other people want for her. She hasn't been a 17 years old for a thousand years, but her brothers have a really hard time understanding that. It never occurred to Elijah that being back in New Orleans was never what Rebekah wanted, even though she's told him that time and time again. He insists on this insane idea that a baby will magically cure their brother's putrid heart and help him see the light. But Caroline's now over six months along and absolutely nothing has changed. Nik is still the same egotistical tyrant he's always been, New Orleans is still ruled by arrogant, self-serving men and Rebekah is sicker than ever of this never ending cycle. She cannot take another thousand years of this.

"Is this still about that silly cure business?"

"No, Elijah! It's not about the cure, it's about _Nik_ never letting me live my life the way I choose to, and it's about you always siding with him and buying into his mania. You never learn, and you expect me to be as stubborn as you."

"We all make sacrifices in the name of this family, Rebekah. But know this: I will _never_ stand against you or Niklaus."

"What about Caroline?"

The second she speaks the name of the witch, the expression on Elijah's face changes. His haughtiness is suddenly gone, replaced by unease.

"Nothing I conspire to do, none of my treachery will harm this family as much as your feelings for her." She expects him to reply, to say he would never dare to make a move on her, but all he does is look away. "You're a hypocrite, Elijah. You would choose love over family and then condemn me for doing the same."

Rebekah wipes away her tears and storms away from there.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Cami is on the floor, leaning back against the bed, with her head down. She's still shaking, her fingers twitching every few seconds. She looks so small like that, so fragile… It makes Caroline feel terribly guilty.

She had to step out for a moment to breathe some fresh air instead of the stuffy thing inside her room after hours of what can only be described as a torture session. Her ears are still ringing with Cami's screams. They stopped the process several times, but, despite all the pain she was obviously enduring, Cami pushed her on. "Keep going, I can take it,” she said, her voice barely a scratch.

She goes back to the room with a large glass of cool water and a cup of tea.

"Cami?"

The girl lifts her head, her green eyes still gleaming with tears, her cheeks flushed from all the effort. She looks like she just ran a marathon, which, Caroline guesses, is probably not that far off.

"Here," she says, handing her the water. Cami takes it with trembly fingers, gulping down quickly.

Caroline puts the cup down on her nightstand and slides down to sit on the floor next to the other woman.

"How do you feel?" she asks.

"Like I was just run over by three trucks. Maybe four."

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologize," Cami says, finishing her water. "I can't believe... All these months... I thought I was losing my mind." Her eyes become distant for a second, and Caroline knows it's the memories still trickling in. Her thoughts must be all scrambled and out of place, and it's probably gonna be a few days before she can make sense of everything in some semblance of order. Compulsion is a nasty thing.

"I watched Marcel beat up a guy," she says all of a sudden. "At the masquerade. Did he kill him?"

"Oh. You mean Thierry. No, he's not dead. Well, technically he is, since he's also a vampire, but... Still alive. Marcel didn’t kill that guy, but... They kill people, Cami. All of them. And.... Well, I do too." Cami turns to her, alarmed. "Sometimes. Bad guys, obviously. But still. It's... Not something I'm proud of. Vampires, on the other hand... It's kind of their thing. Marcel is a really old one, and so is Klaus, as you obviously know now. They're better at controlling their hunger and predator instincts than the newbies. But the thing is... They've been doing this for so long that killing people for them is not the same that it is for us. Even Elijah, who's so moral and a master at self-control, snaps necks without even blinking. So it'll be good for you to stay alert for vampires. Although I think you're pretty much on Klaus' hands-off list, so. They'll stay away from you if they know what's good for them."

"Am I supposed to feel flattered?"

"Honestly, I go back and forth on that." She pauses. "But... Do you? Feel flattered, I mean."

"I... I don't know. There's... a lot to process."

Caroline nods, looking away. "I know this is not the most appropriate time, but I have to ask you something. Have you and Klaus... Did you two... Uhm... Have you ever... Slept together?"

Cami blinks at her. "Is that why you wanted to break the compulsion? Because you were jealous?"

"No!" Caroline objects. "No, of course not. I'd never put you through something like that because I'm _jealous_. Which, for the record... I was. A little bit." Cami barely raises a brow, as though she's not even surprised. "Most of all, I was pissed at Klaus for doing that to you. It's awful."

"Has it ever happened to you?"

Caroline snorts, a sad smile breaking way onto her face. “Witches can’t be compelled. Although… I sometimes wish that we could.”

“You do?” Cami asks, nonplussed.

All night, she's had Damon Salvatore at the forefront of her mind. Every time she felt like stopping the process, or when it seemed like Cami couldn't take it anymore, she'd remember him. The sheer strength of her hatred, the pain that those memories still bring, was enough to muster the energy to keep going. In a way, helping Cami felt a little like breaking free of that trauma. But the fear of finding out that Klaus had been using Camille the exact same way Damon used her remains.

"I met my first vampire when I was 16," she starts, drawing in a sharp breath. "I knew about vampires because my father was very big on hating them. Basically, where I come from, vampires are not such a well-kept secret. The entire city council is aware of their existence, has been so for generations, and both my parents were in the council. My father was an extremely powerful witch and my mom is the town's sheriff. So I grew up hearing nightmarish vampire bedtimes stories. As far as we all knew, there hadn't been any vampires in town for many, _many_ years. It didn't keep me from being terrified of them, though. So when I met this guy, I didn't know what he was, even though I noticed something off about him. I was young and dumb and having a handsome older guy making eyes at me felt like winning the lottery, so I didn't care about instincts I didn't even know I had. When I saw what he was — his teeth, the eyes... I froze. I was paralyzed with fear. Couldn't do anything. Couldn't scream, couldn't run... It was the monster of my father's stories, a real one. He didn't know I was a witch, that I couldn't be compelled, so he tried. He told me to stay still, not to scream, and then he fed on me. For hours and hours. He'd heal me right before I passed out, then he'd start again. And then..." She pauses, her voice quivering. "When he started... To take advantage of me in other ways... I didn't resist either."

"Caroline..." Cami puts a hand on her arm, giving her a gentle, but firm squeeze.

"Anyway," she continues quickly. "He compelled me to forget everything. Well, he thought he did. I thought if he knew what I was and that he couldn't compel me, that he'd just kill me, so I pretended. And then he left like nothing happened. But I remember every horrifying second of it."

"But... If you're a witch... couldn't you have... I don't know... Stopped him, somehow? Done the flame thing you did to the candles?"

"I wasn't a very good witch back then. My father left when I was 10 and he was... Very disappointed with my lack of talent and passion for witchcraft. Every time he tried to teach me, I'd screw up and he'd get mad. He was ashamed of me, said that I had to be a bastard because there was no way he’d ever father such an incompetent girl. So I stopped trying after that, didn’t see the point. It was only after that thing with the vampire happened that I started practicing. I swore to myself that I would never let it happen again. Ever. Not to me and not to anyone else if I could help it."

"I'm so, so sorry this happened to you, Caroline," Cami says, earnestly.

She smiles shortly. "It messed me up for a while, but I'm ok now. I've kicked his ass every chance I got, so. That helped. But you understand why I had to ask, right? If Klaus has been using compulsion to -"

"No, never," Cami cuts her off. "It was never like that. My head is a bit foggy still, but... We just talked. Well, he did most of the talking, when I started talking back he'd usually get irritated and send me away."

"That's pretty much how every conversation with Klaus goes."

The two girls exchange a knowing look, and then burst into a fit of giggles. Caroline has no idea why exactly, it's not even that funny. But if Cami can still laugh after what she just went through, and if Caroline can still find a smile in her after sharing that awful story, then maybe that means things haven't turned out so terrible, after all. Maybe they'll be all right.

"I haven't seen Klaus in weeks," Cami says once they both stop laughing. "He showed up at Rousseau's a few times and I poured him a few drinks, even though I'm pretty sure I wanted to hit him with the bottle, but then I remembered he tips very well, so... That was pretty much it. No _sessions_."

"Good. I mean, it's good to know he stopped it."

"You know..." Cami starts, pensively. "Now that I remember it... He talked about you a _lot_. Very... _affectionately_. For Klaus, anyway. There's a clear difference between how he spoke of you and of everyone else, even his siblings. You're really not together?"

"Nope."

"And he's been keeping you here as a prisoner?"

"Not exactly. He never offered me a choice, but we both know that I could walk out any time I wanted and there's nothing he could do to stop me."

"So why don't you?"

Caroline points to her own belly with both her hands. "Where am I gonna go, almost seven months pregnant with the world's first tribrid baby?"

"Home?" Cami suggests.

"With a new psycho out to get me every day? Wherever I go, death follows. I disagree with Klaus on many, _many_ things, but I think he's right that staying here is for the best, at least for now. I can't take this kind of danger back home with me. They have enough shit to deal with there and I'd be risking everyone's lives, including my mom's. She'd have a target on her back. Besides — Klaus doesn't exactly have a lot of fans back in Mystic Falls. If he was honest with you about his stint there instead of giving you the delusional psycho's cut version, then you know no one was really sorry to see him gone. I don't know how I'm going to explain this."

"They don't know you're pregnant?"

"They think I'm in California. No one even knows I've been with Klaus, let alone that I'm pregnant."

"Not even your mother?" Caroline shakes her head. "Wow. That will be a shocker."

"I know I'll have to tell them at some point, and I want to. I want my mom to be a part of her granddaughter's life. But I need to prepare myself first. As it is, I barely have time to prepare to give birth, so... One incredibly painful thing at a time."

"And I used to think I was good at compartmentalizing."

Caroline smiles again. "Listen, Cami. I didn't break the compulsion just so you could remember everything. I broke the compulsion so you would have a choice. If you would rather not know, then we can ask Rebekah to compel you to forget everything again and it'll be like it never happened."

"Why would I want that?"

"Some people prefer not to know," Caroline shrugs. "It can be a lot. And the last thing I want is for you to get hurt in this mess. You'll never see things the same way again. Life is going to be different. I understand if this isn't something that you want for yourself, and you have a right to stay out."

Cami takes Caroline's hands between her palms, looking deep into her eyes. "I can't thank you enough for opening my eyes, Caroline. Even if the world is a terrible place, I would rather know."

"I had a feeling you would say that," says Caroline, softly. "So you're going to need this." Caroline takes the cup of tea, not so steamy anymore, and gives it to Cami. She looks down at the liquid, takes it up to her face for a sniff, and then looks at Caroline with a question. "It's a vervain infusion. I added a little bit of sugar so it would taste better. It's a little bitter, so you might wanna spice it up. It goes well with hibiscus or chamomile."

Cami blinks. "Vervain?"

"It keeps you from being compelled. I have some for you to take with you. It takes about three days to leave your system completely, but I would take it every day, just to be sure. As long as you're on it, no vampire will be able to compel you again."

Camille takes a sip of her tea, wrinkling up her nose at the taste. "Yeah, a _little_ bitter doesn't even begin to describe it. But that's nothing for someone who just got punched on the brain for three hours."

"Good point."

"I owe you big time, Caroline."

"Rebekah once told me that us girls have to stick together. She was right."

She takes another sip and then puts the cup down. "Can I ask for another favor, then?"

"Shoot."

"Do you mind if I stay here for a little bit? I'm feeling completely out of sorts."

"I wouldn't have let you leave even if you wanted to. I'd like to keep an eye on you, and I can give you something to help you sleep. Nightmares are probably gonna be a side effect for a while, with all the memories coming back."

Cami sighs. "Great. What other collaterals should I expect?"

"I have no idea. I've never done this before."

Cami's face drops. "I was your guinea pig?"

"I tried something similar, once, a while ago. It was to break a sire bond, which isn't exactly like compulsion, but the principle is the same. It didn't work. So you're technically my first successful case."

"That's comforting," she mumbles.

Caroline tries to stand to her feet, only to realize she’s really entering that stage where crouching down and getting up becomes a challenge. Noticing her struggle, Cami stands up and offers her a hand. "Magic is not an exact science," she says. "It's not about practice, it's about understanding the flows of magic and how to connect to it and bend it to your will. And I do. I may not be the most experienced, but I'm an extremely diligent _and_ resourceful student. Plus, I'm a fast learner. So you were in good hands."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm just... A little freaked out."

"It's ok. I just tortured you for hours, I can cut you some slack. Now, lie down."

"What, on the bed?"

"Where else?"

"I was raised catholic, Caroline. I'm pretty sure stealing the bed off a pregnant woman is a fast-track to hell."

Caroline shakes her head. "That couch over there is perfectly comfortable. I've taken wonderful afternoon naps there."

"So I'll take the couch."

"Cami -"

"This is not a discussion."

"Fine. We can share, then. The bed is big enough for a soccer team, anyway. Left side is mine."

Cami walks around to climb on the right side of the bed, pulling down the covers and fluffing up the pillows before lying down with a loud, exhausted groan. Caroline walks over to her side and puts her hands out over Cami. "Close your eyes."

"Before you do your thing," Cami interrupts her. "Can I just say something?"

"Sure."

"Klaus," Cami starts. "He's delusional. Paranoid. Prone to violent outbursts. Definitely dangerous."

"I'm well aware."

"But. I _really_ think he cares about you. It's a little unethical of me to say this, considering I was technically his therapist, but since he insisted on calling me a _stenographer_ \- and since he was an ass compelling me — I don't feel bad at all breaking the doctor-patient confidentiality. I think impending fatherhood scares him to death, even though he always refused to admit it. _But_. You being happy is very important to him."

Caroline snorts. "He has a weird way of showing it."

"He has a weird way of trying to make friends who'll listen to him when he needs to vent. I think _weird_ is pretty much default for him."

Well... Caroline can't exactly disagree with that. But that's not to say she agrees with Klaus' methods. And in case, today has been too exhausting for her to be thinking about Klaus, who, by the way, is still apparently mad at her for some unknown reason. So unless he starts using his words, Caroline will just focus on the issues she can actually help with. Like giving her extremely tired friend a good night of sleep.

"Sweet dreams, Cami. Or - no dreams."

Cami smiles, and then closes her eyes. "Good night, Caroline."

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you were really anxious about this chapter, so I'm really looking forward to seeing how you guys feel! Also a little scared lol This is my first attempt at writing Kalijah, which I know is a very popular pairing, so I hope no one gets mad at me for my depiction of them. If you are upset, I'M SORRY! I tried to make it respectfully, but I still need my Elijah with his head back in New Orleans. In a way, I did do more than the show, didn't I? lol
> 
> I'm also really looking forward to seeing what you guys think of Cami's moment in this chapter! I told you I would bring her back and she'd get more involved with the story. Despite the fact Davina does break Cami's compulsion (a few episodes back, actually), these scenes were 100% original and addressed things I think are really important my Caroline here. It's a hard topic to talk about, but I hope you guys liked it.
> 
> Also, I have to say this is not the end of repercussions for the near-kiss, so you can expect more to come, though I'm still struggling with how to post the next three chapters. I can be easily persuaded to launch them faster by comments lol I don't play hard to get, folks. I'm just that easy.
> 
> Lastly, this episode wraps up with an AWESOME song. The final scene on the show is the with Klaus, Marcel and Sophie (and Elijah in my version), and the song that plays is [**UpUpUp by The Mast**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qMBcN3oCi3E). If anyone would like to play it to ~~set the mood~~ while reading, go right ahead!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, I hope I didn't make anybody angry, please bear with me, I love you, cheers!


	13. S01E13 Crescent City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, shout out to [coveredinthecolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/pseuds/coveredinthecolors) for her awesome beta work and totally non-biased comments about Elijah and Jackson. 
> 
> If you still find any mistakes, it's all my fault and I apologize.
> 
> Thanks very much to everyone who has been reading this story and sharing their thoughts and feelings with me. ❤ You guys rock and really do make my day! I very much appreciate your comments, so keep 'em coming!

* * *

 

"Caroline," Father Kieran greets her with a smile when she leaves the church after mass.

She was never really the religious type, even though her mom used to take her to Sunday masses every once in a while when she was younger. When you're a witch, growing up aware that the mysteries of this world are far greater than anything the Bible might've ever implied, the church's notions of right and wrong, good and evil, kind of seem totally beside the point. And, well. Once you understand that Jesus might have actually been a vampire, your perspective on the whole miracle thing kind of changes as well.

But when Klaus said he was going to the church, it was just too good a chance to pass.

He's still in a caustic mood, which is saying a lot when you consider that grumpy is Klaus' default state of being, but there have been improvements. Instead of lashing out, he's taken to being unusually quiet. Elijah has been pointedly avoiding Caroline, especially when his brother is around, even though she still thinks that is utter bullshit. It's ridiculous that they can’t be friends just because Klaus is weird. If he has issues, he needs to deal with it like a thousand years old grown up; scowling and pouting his way through life is not gonna take him anywhere. But since he refuses to acknowledge there's a problem, Caroline has decided to approach the situation by simply pretending it doesn't exist. If Klaus talks to her, she talks to him. If he wakes up roaring and snappish, she just ignores him until he's approachable again. Far from ideal, she knows, but then absolutely nothing about their circumstance is, and she's got way too many problems to be mindful of Klaus' delicate mood swings.

_She_ is the hormonal person in that house. Pregnant trumps temperamental. They should all be mindful of _her_.

He seemed to have woken up in a semi-decent mood that morning, even sat with her for breakfast, and when he announced he'd be attending mass, she immediately volunteered to tag along. It just seemed to her like one of those once in a lifetime opportunities she couldn’t miss.

Much to Klaus’ annoyance - and Marcel’s amusement - Caroline teased him all the way there. "Do you think the statues will bleed when you walk in? What happens if someone throws holy water on you? Can you pray? Do you even believe in God? How do you feel knowing that you're almost as old as Jesus Christ but he has a much larger fanbase?"

"He's dead and I'm still here, so I guess that means I win."

"How do you know? I’m pretty sure he could be a vampire. Maybe the first one ever. What if he just cut his hair, changed his name and moved to Florida? He could be just a stranger on a bus, trying to make his way home, you never know."

Marcel understood the reference, Klaus clearly didn't.

It was interesting to be back at a church after so many years, considering everything that's happened in her life. She almost burst into laughter in the middle of Father Kieran's sermon when it dawned on her that she was in a church, living in sin with Klaus Mikaelson, 28 weeks pregnant with his baby. How to be religious when life is crazy like that?

In all honesty, however, she expected that accompanying two vampires to a mass would be more eventful, but Klaus and Marcel were perfectly well-behaved, hanging onto Father Kieran's every word. Klaus can barely sit still through dinner with his family, but in a church? Sure, he'll be polite and mindful, why not?

Father Kieran was very eloquent and gripping, but Caroline found her attention slipping away. Masses can be so boringly long... She'd start looking around the church, paying attention to the architectural details, the very old looking iron chandeliers and the religious art on the walls representing important passages of the Bible. There's a certain decaying aspect to the whole building, but the rustic thing works strangely well from the inside, especially with daylight filtering in through the large stained glass windows. It's beautiful.

When she turned her head to check the paintings on the back, though, she caught a woman staring right at her. Red-headed, really pretty, piercing blue eyes. She smiled when she noticed Caroline looking, and then turned away.

"Problem?" Marcel whispered to her.

"Huh?” She snapped back to him, blinking. “What? No.”

"Then pay attention," he smirked. "We're meant to seem like devoted parishioners."

Caroline rolled her eyes at him, but she did try to focus on the sermon. Father Kieran was right in the middle of a speech about how St. Anne's was reopening to become once more the heart of their community.

"Lovely sermon this morning, Father," Caroline says, shaking his hand. "Very inspirational."

"Thank you. It's good to see you here. But I wasn't expecting _you_ to join us," he says, pointedly looking at Klaus and Marcel.

"We were hoping for some word from your human sources on the recent witchy blast from the past," said Klaus.

"My guys have their ears to the ground. No one has seen or heard any sign of whatever his name is.”

"He's called Papa Tunde," Marcel adds. "And right now he's wandering the Quarter with the power he absorbed from every soul I had buried in the garden. So you might wanna put your ear a little closer to the ground."

"Or I could steer clear of whatever war is brewing between your kind and his before I find myself in -"

"Hi, uncle," Camille says, materializing between Caroline and Marcel. "I wanted to congratulate you on getting the church up and running." She takes Father Kieran's hand and gives it a hard shake. "I can see this is a bad time, though," she adds, sending Klaus a death glare. "Nice to see you, Marcel. Caroline." She turns to Caroline and gives her a quick hug. "Really good to see you." And then she stalks away.

A little thrown by her friend’s surprise appearance, Caroline frowns. "Did she just say _uncle_?"

"Cami is my niece," Father Kieran replies. "I didn't know you were friends."

"We are. That explains a lot," Caroline muses. She thought Kieran looked slightly familiar when they met, and now she gets why; he has Cami's big, expressive green eyes. It also explains why Klaus would pick him to represent the human faction in this council-like thing he has going in New Orleans, even calling him _trustworthy_. Klaus really does have an appreciation for the O’Connells.

As they walk back to the car after a final round of threats thinly disguised as friendly advice so the priest would get his informants to work — "You two have no respect whatsoever, do you? Bossing a priest around on mass day. Where do you draw the line?" Caroline reprehended —, Klaus allows Marcel to go ahead and falls in stride with her.

"Interesting thing, Camille's reaction just now," he muses.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Last time I saw her, many weeks ago, I compelled her not to remember anything, not even in my presence."

"Oh."

"Just now I could swear it was almost as though she'd broken the compulsion."

"Interesting."

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"Me? No. Nothing," Caroline says, shaking her head. " _But_. Whoever did help her do it has my total support. I did tell you a million times to stop compelling her and you never listened to me, so I'm glad she broke free on her own."

Klaus is quiet for a moment, his expression serious. "I did listen. I was just trying to keep her away from all this. The less she knew, the less danger she'd be in."

Caroline considers him thoughtfully. He sounds honest, perhaps even well-intentioned, but missing an important point. "It was not your choice to make, Klaus. Not anymore. You had a choice when you brought her into this and opened up the doors to this world for her. But once you did that, it was no longer up to you to decide whether she should know or not. The way you compelled her — it left too many blank spaces. Cami is too smart not to realize there was something wrong with her. She couldn't just let it go, it was driving her out of her mind. So whoever helped her remember — it was a good thing. For her, of course. For you? Not so much. She might be _a little_ upset for a while. I suggest upping your tips if you want her to reconsider being your friend."

Klaus gives her a strange look, and when it seems like he's going to say something, his phone rings.

"Yes, Diego. What do you have for me?"

Caroline continues to walk and, after a moment, she realizes Klaus has stopped. When she turns, she finds him tense, his jaw set and a dark look in his eyes.

"What?" she asks.

"We need to get back to the compound," he speaks gravely. "Now."

 

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"Back in the day, the witches wanted to send a threat, they'd just kill a chicken and leave it on your doorstep," Marcel says.

"It's a rather large and ominous chicken, wouldn't you say?" Elijah offers, inspecting the large gash on Papa Tunde's neck for the millionth time.

Perhaps the greatest threat they've encountered since their return to New Orleans, a man who became so powerful he'd taken down Rebekah and nearly done the same to both him and Marcellus, and who was now running amok powered on the vital energy of dozens of vampires. Dead. Just like that. And delivered to their door like an offering — or rather, like a warning.

For once, Elijah isn't happy at all that this problem apparently took care of itself. This doesn’t feel like the end of something, but rather like the start. Everything about this is worrisome, starting with the fact that somebody got inside the compound to leave Papa Tunde's body in the middle of the courtyard unperturbed. No one saw a thing. They either used magic, or Elijah needs to have a word with Niklaus about how secure the property really is.

A single wound on his neck. A cut done from left to right, deep but extremely clean. No signs of struggle whatsoever. Could he have done it to himself? He's an ingenious witch, so it's possible. But Elijah doubts it. The way the body was placed on the ground was not accidental either. His arms under his body, his left leg bent to form the number 4. Could they be alluding to the four resurrected witches?

Well. Three now.

Either way, it seems like Tunde wasn’t murdered, but rather sacrificed himself, which spells a whole new set of possible complications. Even though he’s dead, their problems only seem to have gotten worse.

"Can I get you anything, brother?" Klaus asks, in that annoying impatient way of his when answers aren't provided with the speed he wants. "A magnifying glass? A pipe, perhaps?"

"You have a theory you would like to share with us, Niklaus?" he retorts, standing to his feet.

"Papa Tunde defeated Rebekah with ease, almost got the two of you as well. If he was supposed to be their prized fighter, why leave him for dead in our front yard?" Klaus inquires.

"Oh, don't you all look cheery this morning," Rebekah says as she joins them.

She left early without telling them where she was going. Elijah called her several times, but she wasn't answering her phone. For a moment he thought she might've been caught again, but then Papa Tunde's body appeared. He wasn't sure whether to be more or less concerned.

"Listen to this," she continues. "A girl literally exploded from a grave today as Sabine was giving her tour of the city of the dead at the cemetery. It was Monique Deveraux."

"What?" Klaus asks, his expression taut.

"The tourists thought it was part of the show, but the witches are celebrating like it was some kind of bloody miracle."

"Maybe it is," Marcel says, a hopeful grin on his face. "They think that all hope is lost, but suddenly a Harvest girl is resurrected. This is how we're gonna get Davina back. Kill the witch who took her place."

"I have a theory about who one of them could be," Caroline chimes in, sweeping down the stairs to join them with Davina's sketches.

"Celeste.” The name rolls off Elijah’s tongue almost involuntarily, his heart lurching in his chest.

"Davina was trying to tell us something. She was drawing pictures of a person she’d never met. There has to be a reason," Caroline says. "It was a warning about a great evil coming," she continues, in a softer tone, looking directly at Elijah. "It has to be Celeste."

Elijah doesn't know what to think. Would Celeste be involved in a plot against him? Or have they understood this all wrong? Papa Tunde had enough reason to want revenge, but... Why would she? She suffered a horrible death, but at the hands of a human. Elijah made sure the man and his son paid for it. For years he went every single day to her secret grave, resisting the urge to leave flowers. It was decades before he stopped dreaming of her almost every night. To this day, the mere memory of her brings a dull ache to his chest. What would he do if he ran into her on the street? What would he say? And what if she is, as Caroline suspects, the great evil from Davina's premonitions?

"First Papa Tunde returns to settle old scores," Klaus says, also turning to face him. Suddenly he feels as though he's directly involved in something he can't quite understand. Something much bigger than he could've ever imagined this to be. "Now your murdered lover is back. This isn't witches attacking vampires. They're declaring war on our family."

 

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They're all discussing theories and strategy when Klaus, being Klaus, begins to insist that the solution to their problem is just to kill every single witch in New Orleans. That her brother can actually suggest these things with a straight face is remarkable. Caroline, obviously, takes great offense.

" _Really_? Why don't you start with me, then? I'd _love_ to see you try."

"Of course I don't mean _you_. You don't count as a witch."

"Then what the hell do I count as?"

"You're -"

"If you say baby mama, Klaus, I _swear to God_."

They go back and forth on this nonsense for the next twenty minutes. Rebekah and Marcel try their best to put the conversation back on more productive tracks, but it's useless.

"Aren't they sleeping together?" Marcel asks.

"You'd think so. Clearly the worst that could happen already did."

"Well, they should be."

"That's what I've been saying for months."

When Rebekah turns to plead for Elijah's support, she realizes he's not there anymore. Maybe it's the whole pointless argument that bored him to hell, but Rebekah thinks there might be more to it. Elijah was unusually quiet to begin with, and took the moment of distraction to sneak out unnoticed.

She finds him alone at the study room, eyes distant and haunted, a grim, thoughtful expression on his face.

The return of Celeste is obviously affecting him more than he's willing to let on. It's been two hundred years, but clearly he still feels very deeply for her. And it pains Rebekah to see her imposing older brother so forlorn.

"Well, that's been quite a morning," she says, as merrily as she can. "Is it too early for a scotch, do you think?"

"It is entirely too early if one intends to drive, yes," he replies vaguely.

Rebekah pours herself a glass and lifts it in a toast. "Just as well. I don't have any plans to go anywhere."

Elijah looks at her for a long time, his face wrought deep with a thought.

"She's not safe here," he finally says. "You have to take Caroline to the plantation house until this is over."

The smile vanishes from Rebekah's lips. "Are you worried about Caroline or whether or not you can trust me?"

"It's precisely because I trust you that I'm asking you to do this."

"Here's a novel idea. Why don't you let Caroline decide for herself? Why are you trying to dictate her fate?"

Elijah scrubs a hand across his face. "You know why,'' he mutters.

"Then perhaps you should take her yourself."

"Then that would make me the very hypocrite you've accused me of being." He gives her an almost apologetic lopsided smile. "Rebekah, I cannot legislate my feelings. My actions, however..." Her brother takes her hands and gazes straight into her eyes. "So would you kindly do this for me?"

Rebekah sighs. She really doesn't know how to stay mad at Elijah. He's way too reasonable to be hateful. "You know the mama witch loves to be told what to do. She's not gonna like it. But... I will do it. For you. If only to end this silly quarrel between the two of us."

One of these days, Rebekah thinks, she's gonna have to learn how to say no to Elijah.

 

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Sometimes, the universe conspires in your favor.

In Caroline's experience, it's a very rare occurrence, but it seems like this might be one of those one-offs, and she's not about to start questioning it. Things have been so hectic and generally awful lately that she's ready to embrace whatever blessings come her way. Even if that's just Rebekah _informing_ her that she's been sent to the plantation house for the time being. Caroline had a few issues with the tone, but she let it slide because it just so happens that she was already planning on going anyway.

For almost a month now, Caroline has been corresponding with a werewolf named Eve. She apparently helped Elijah and Rebekah when they went out to the Bayou to stop the wolf massacre ordered by Klaus a few months ago, and she wrote to Caroline to thank her for her concern. Since then, they've been exchanging notes, usually delivered by trusted messengers — sometimes by Josh, who would do just about anything to stay out of Klaus' hair, including get himself in the middle of a vampire-hating werewolf camp. Caroline may or may not have used Josh's panic of Klaus in her favor. Normally, she'd be ashamed of that kind of thing. But being almost seven months pregnant means she cares very little for other people's discomfort when that is pretty much the state she lives in 100% of the time.

Caroline wrote to Eve after the storm to ask if everyone was all right, and Eve thanked her for making Klaus find shelter for the wolves. She explained that it hadn't been her idea, that Klaus did it all on his own, but Eve didn't seem very convinced. Apparently Klaus' reputation around the Bayou isn't all that great, even though he is the one related to them. Caroline mentioned that she'd like to meet them some time, the wolves that saved her life, and Eve said that they could arrange something for the one night when they would be back to their human forms, on the full moon. Which so happens to be tonight.

 She already ordered the booze and the food to be delivered directly to the plantation house. Loads of beer kegs and meaty dishes, as per Eve's suggestion. Eve also said they love a good bonfire and live music. Her new wolf friends will have the full experience of a Caroline Forbes party, and she wants it to be _perfect_.

For months now Caroline has been dying to meet them, and the fact that it's actually going to happen is making her swell with anticipation. She considered telling Klaus about it for five seconds, but who was she kidding? If Klaus even allowed it to happen at all, he would definitely be making an appearance, and then he’d be awful to everyone, totally ruin the party and probably pick a fight or two. Before the night was over, the wolves would be sorry they ever helped her escape the witches. Not to mention — Mikaelsons are total snobs. She can't imagine Klaus in one of his thousand-dollar jackets having fun at a kegger around a bonfire.

If this first meeting turns out well, then maybe she can plan something different for the next full moon. Prepare the wolves for their long lost relative with a temper from hell. For now, though... What Klaus doesn't know can't hurt other people.

That said, the prospect of being the only outsider in a party surrounded by werewolves is giving her major anxiety. Caroline's memories of hanging out with werewolves aren't exactly inspiring. When Tyler was on his own, it was fine, but the second he found himself a pack of sorts with the rest of the hybrids it became impossible for her to pretend that they still had a lot in common. She just couldn't reach him anymore. He was someone else.

Rebekah has no idea what she's getting herself into, but she's a life saver.

In the end, if she disregards the whole all-powerful-witch-showing-up-dead-on-their-front-yard-in-totally-suspicious-circumstances thing —which she is disregarding, just for tonight —, it seems like everything has worked out for the best.

"I thought I was gonna have to drag you out here kicking and screaming," Rebekah says when she parks the car in front of the plantation house. Having someone to drive for her was a given as well. Caroline's at that stage where even wearing a seat belt is uncomfortable. "Little disappointed, to be honest. I was kind of relishing the thought."

"Yeah, well. We all just wanna protect the baby, right?" she mutters distractedly.

"Hey. I'm on your side here," Rebekah says, solemnly. "So what gives?"

Caroline peers at her. "Tonight's a full moon," she starts. "I... May have invited some people over."

Rebekah's face breaks into a knowing grin. "Of course. Every red-blooded American werewolf will be a bundle of fur and sharp teeth tonight whilst your cursed friends will be -"

"Human. But only for a few hours and won't be again until the next full moon. So I asked Josh to get a message out to the people in the Bayou."

A man comes out of the house pushing an empty cart. He looks at Caroline and gives her a thumb up.

"Huh. It appears you didn't even wait for my permission to throw a kegger," Rebekah raises her eyebrows.

"Look, everyone wants me out of the French Quarter right now. I hate being bossed around and treated like an invalid, but, just for now, I'll do as I'm told and won't argue. I'll play the freaking damsel in the glass tower. Because tonight is the one night I can meet the people who protected me when I was this close from dying. So you can rat me out to your brothers, have Klaus here to ruin my plans and send me to my room. _Or_." Caroline smiles. "You can help me throw one hell of a party."

Rebekah crosses her arms. "You, inviting me to host a party with you? Now _that_ is unexpected. You couldn't wait to kick me out of every single dance committee back at school."

Caroline shrugs. "Think of this as making amends."

Rebekah squints her eyes at Caroline before her lips twist into a smirk. "Well, count me in, then."

 

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It takes Elijah exactly four minutes to find just the witch he was looking for.

It's almost as though Sabine was waiting for him to show up, and not at all displeased to see him.

"Elijah," she says, whirling around with an easy smile on her face. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"My family needs an ally among the witches and you've helped us in the past," he says, mouth slanting in a not-quite-smile. "Perhaps together we can avoid an unnecessary conflict."

"They _may_ be willing to make a deal with the noble Elijah. But there will never be any peace as long as it involves Klaus."

"Is that what all this is about? You want my brother out of town?"

"I'm just telling you how they feel," Sabine shrugs. "My people are scared. They're desperate, but they're not dumb." She tilts her head. "You have a niece on the way. It stands to reason you would be willing to discuss how to run him out of the city."

As always, Niklaus is at the heart of all his problems. And as always, the witches are willing to strike low and use his niece as a means to their end.

Elijah is all for peaceful resolutions, it's what he's been advocating for since the beginning. But if there's one personality trait he shares with Niklaus, it's his distaste for being manipulated.

They honestly haven't understood what they're up against here if they think it's possible to convince Niklaus to skip town without a fight. And maybe not even then. His brother is determined to make New Orleans their home again, and he will cleanse the city — the entire state of Louisiana if he has to — of any threats if that means keeping Caroline and their child safely with him.

Underestimating Niklaus has never ended well before. Not once. It would do them well to understand that while there's still time to avoid bloodshed.

"Let's walk together," Elijah says with a lopsided grin. If common sense doesn't work, then perhaps charm will. "You can take me on one of your famous tours."

 

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The party is a success.

The band is great. The food is amazing. There's more than enough beer to keep a bunch of werewolves going all night long. Everyone's dancing, having a laugh, enjoying themselves. Even Rebekah, who quickly found herself a suitable partner in the form of a particularly toned blonde werewolf named Oliver.

It certainly looks like they're all having a fantastic time, which is everything Caroline could've hoped for. She's fine just watching. From inside the house. Where everything's quiet and nobody's dancing.

It's ok. Really. Tonight is not about her. Caroline's not bitter. Not at all.

Ok, so maybe she kind of wishes they'd at least said hi before they went straight to the beer kegs, but she can understand why they wouldn't. They only have a few hours to get as much alcohol pumped inside as they possibly can. Caroline can sympathize. Seven months without a single drop of alcohol is taking a toll on her as well.

At least she got to properly meet Eve, who's the sweetest person ever. But she was also very eager to spend some quality time with the part of her pack that only ever gets to _speak_ once a month.

Caroline hasn't been shy a single day in her life, but she was standing out like a sore thumb with her giant belly in the middle of a bunch of drunk werewolves. And once it started getting too awkward, she decided to go find something else to do.

Lucky for her, the house is a bit of a mess. All those paper cups and plates all over the place are an anxious witch's paradise. Bending over to pick stuff up is not so fun, and she's pretty sure her lower back is gonna kill her come morning, but, for now, she's just enjoying the distraction.

As long as everyone's having fun, that's all that matters. It's her way to say thank you.

"I seriously doubt you invited us here to wait on us."

Caroline whips around to find a man standing by the door, smiling apologetically at her. He's wearing what appears to be official werewolf uniform - flannel and jeans. He’s got long dark hair and kind eyes, and his voice is deep and heavily accented. Being around posh-sounding vampires all day, she almost forgets what a southern accent really sounds like.

"Busted," she says, grinning sheepishly. "It's a funny habit of mine to placate my anxiety. Cleaning."

"You're Caroline," he says, not as a question. "I'm Jackson. It's nice to see you again."

Her mouth opens in a silent _oh_. " _You're_ the wolf who attacked the witches that night. The one who was watching me."

"Gotta keep my eyes on you," he shrugs. "Precious cargo and all."

"Right," she nods. "Miracle baby."

"It's more than just a miracle baby. It's the heir to a throne. But I don't really care about the baby." Caroline raises her eyebrows at him. "Sorry," Jackson says with a grimace. "That came out wrong. I mean, of course I care. Your baby is the alpha who's supposed to unite all the packs. It's just that... Personally, my interest is in you."

"I'm not a werewolf."

"I know. But I've been watching you, and you're more of a mama wolf than many I've seen."

Caroline chuckles, the warmth in his eyes suddenly making her feel very self-conscious.

She clears her throat. "What was that you said about my kid uniting the packs?"

"She's of an important bloodline among us. One we thought was lost. Forever. We're the same people, but not the same lines. Hers is a very old lineage of werewolf royalty. My fiancé, whom I was supposed to marry in order to unite our packs, was of the same line. A distant relative of your daughter. She was murdered."

He looks upset all of a sudden, and Caroline realizes this is probably not something he talks about a lot, seeing that he spends most of his time in wolf form. She's about to say she's sorry for his loss when something hits her.

"Wait," she starts, narrowing her eyes at him and placing a protective hand on top of her baby bump. "You're not gonna get all Twilight on me now and tell me you want to marry my unborn baby, are you?"

Jackson laughs whole-heartedly. "Nothing like that. I'm supposed to guide her. Be like a mentor until she's ready to become our alpha. And you, as the mother, will always be welcome with us, too."

"Wow," Caroline breathes, suddenly feeling a little airy. She sits down on the couch behind her, trying to piece together everything he just said. She suspected Klaus was somehow related to those wolves, if they were so eager to protect her, but she could've never imagined the level of complexity of this connection. "Seems like you've got my daughter's whole life planned."

"It's... not like that."

"It's what it sounded like."

"I'm sorry," Jackson says, combing his fingers through his hair. "That was not the best way to explain all this to you."

"Nope. Definitely not." She crosses her arms on top of her bump. "Luckily, we've got time. So try again."

 

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"So this next part of town is one of the few areas where any of the original French architecture remains. Most of the buildings were destroyed in the 1700s when the city burned for the first time."

Sabine's storytelling makes Elijah flash on the big fire that tore through New Orleans in the 1700s. The Good Friday fire destroyed virtually the entire city, sparing only a few buildings closer to the river. The real French Quarter disappeared, and the rebuilding mostly followed Spanish styles.

But of course Sabine knows he knows all that. He never needed a tour of the city he helped build, and then rebuild. It's not why he wanted to walk with her.

Ever since it was revealed that someone had already consecrated Celeste's remains, Elijah's had a weight in his chest. And it has only grown since then. He gave the matter a lot of thought over the last few weeks. Davina's prophetic drawings. The resurrected witches. It was all connected. It had to be. Her death triggered an event much greater than just the completion of the Harvest ritual.

How Celeste would connect to all that was a mystery that occupied many of his nights. Elijah's had a suspicion for a long time now. It started small, and he initially chalked it off as coincidences and nostalgia. But then this morning, when Caroline suggested Celeste had to be behind everything... Little alarm bells went chiming inside of him.

He had to confirm it. Which is what today has been all about. And now that he's certain... He feels ridiculous for not having realized it right away.

"Am I boring you?" Sabine asks when she realizes he wasn't really paying attention.

Elijah presses his lips together. "Surprising as you might find it, it's not every day someone asks me to betray my own brother," he says, fixing her with a glare. " _Celeste_."

She doesn't even look surprised. Her eyes sparkle with malice, her lips curving into an amused smile. "How did you know?"

"As Davina was drawing your likeness, I dared to imagine that your presence was near. And when Sophie discovered that there was no magic in your remains, I wondered... Could you have possibly cheated death by using your power to place your essence into the body of another? And if so, who? And then I recalled the lovely Sabine. Your visions of my brother's child precipitated the death of the last elder on your coven, ensuring the Harvest ritual could not be completed — unless you would control it."

"Bravo, Elijah," she says. "I have to confess I did wonder whether you'd recognize me. And I'm a little flattered that you have."

Elijah narrows his eyes at her. The way she cocks her head, the way she places her hands on her hips, even the way she holds herself, so elegantly... It's Celeste, indeed, even if in another's body. But the sparkle in her eyes... His Celeste didn't have a single wicked vein in her body. That mischief was not there before.

"You've been playing a very long game, indeed. To what end?" he muses.

Celeste approaches him, her hands cupping his face ever so gently. Elijah draws in a long breath, meekly allowing himself to be manipulated. When she brushes his lips with her own, he doesn't flinch. And when she kisses him, he parts his lips and kisses her back, closing his eyes and, for just a moment, losing himself in the memory of her.

"Oh, Elijah..." she breathes against his mouth. "My lost love... After all this time... Don't you understand?"

Celeste releases him, takes a step back, and Elijah feels as though the air was suddenly knocked off his lungs.

"I died because of Klaus," Celeste hisses, anger twisting every line on her face. She blurs in and out of focus as he's hit with a sharp wave of dizziness. "And even after all his vindictive lies about witches led to my death, you stood by him. All because of your vow. _Always and forever_."

Elijah stumbles back, pulling at his collar, a burning sensation lancing through him, making it impossible to breathe. "What have you done to me?"

"It's a little enchantment. You needn't worry. I'm not here to kill you, Elijah, I'm here to teach you the error of your ways. Always and Forever was the greatest mistake of your life."

He claws at his neck, gasping, a ripple of despair traveling across his body as he loses his balance and falls to the ground. "You've poisoned me with a kiss," he hisses. "At least you haven't lost your sense of irony."

"We may have time for more," she offers. His vision swims before him, and Elijah struggles to remain alert. "But first I'm going to cure you of your greatest flaw... This absurd devotion to your lunatic family."

"Your anger is with me. If you have come here seeking revenge–“

"Oh, I will have my revenge," she snaps. "Starting with Klaus. He's gonna know pain and torment like he's never felt before. Unless you choose to save him, of course. But then that leaves Rebekah... Your _tragic_ sister. She's about to find herself in quite the predicament."

Panic explodes inside of him as he finally understands the sick game Celeste is playing.

"You could save her," she continues. "But that leaves Caroline in jeopardy."

"No," he groans, a heart-stopping rush shooting through him. " _No, no_ " he grumbles incoherently as he tries to stand to his feet, only for his arms and legs to buckle under his weight.

"Oh, this poor girl... She has no idea how dangerous it is to be loved by a Mikaelson, let alone two. Oh, well. With your body weakened by my spell you won't be able to save them all."

Elijah's chest tightens, pain turning his vision black at the edges, and he finally drops down, unable to fight it anymore.

"You'll recover with just enough time to choose one," Celeste says. "Who will it be? I can't wait to find out."

The last thing he hears before he's engulfed by darkness is the sound of Celeste's laughter.

 

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"I know it's a lot to take in," Jackson offers in a calm and sympathetic manner when Caroline fails to speak for an uncomfortably long time, her mind reeling as she tries to compose her thoughts.

"You think? I just wanted to meet my savior. I never imagined I'd find out I'm carrying the wolf messiah in my womb."

Jackson seems like a genuinely nice guy. Even though he has every reason in this world to be burning with rage and thirsty for revenge after what happened to his pack and the curse Marcel put on him and his closest people, he actually sounds hopeful. War and grief couldn't kill the goodness in his heart, and it shows. He has an earnest smile, and when he talks to Caroline, he's not imposing or demanding, just being honest. But she is more than a little overwhelmed here.

"Ours isn't just an ordinary pack of wolves. Our bloodlines go back to the very beginning. Two families. Hers and mine. I guess that kind of makes us royalty."

She huffs out a nervous laugh. "Don't tell Klaus that. He already thinks himself a king. His ego can definitely do without that bit of information."

Jackson chuckles. "Klaus is the son of a legendary leader of our clan. There's a whole myth around him. But... I gotta say, he doesn't have a lot of fans around the Bayou."

"Oh? You mean like there's a place on this earth where Klaus _does_ have fans?"

"Good point," Jackson says, nodding. "But your child... She shouldn't be possible. She's much closer to the origins of the pack than anyone else, because of who her father is."

"You know, you'll have to forgive me if I'm not exactly excited about this. You expect my girl to, what? Go live with your people in the middle of the swamp?"

Jackson grinds his jaw, a shadow crossing his eyes. "New Orleans used to be our city. We lost everything because of some infighting. Then the vampires came after us, and if our families had been united, we could've taken them. So our leaders decided to bring the two lines back together. And Andrea and I were betrothed. But... There was no time. They killed her entire family."

"And I'm _really_ sorry for you, I really am. But... That's not saying much to me."

"Our pack made a huge misstep with the vampires when we refused to back down. Then Marcel had us cursed by a witch. You're a witch, Caroline, and the mother of the last representative of an entire legendary werewolf bloodline," he says, again with that hopeful tone that scares Caroline more than anything else. It's like Elijah with his hope conversation all over again. Her baby hasn't even taken her first breath yet and already she has the weight of the world on her tiny shoulders. "Our people will protect and follow you, because of what you represent."

"And what is that, exactly?"

"A time when things were different for us, when we fought back. And after everything you went through to find us, to bring us here tonight..." Jackson's lips curl into a huge, tender smile. "You're the one who's gonna break our curse."

Caroline's eyebrows go up to her hairline. "I'm sorry - what? What are you talking about?"

Jackson blinks, confused. "Your witch friend. She told Eve that you were coming here tonight to set us free."

Caroline feels all the color draining out of her face, a tendril of worry unraveling inside of her.

"What witch friend?"

 

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Elijah comes to with a gasp, a dull ache in his chest as he coughs for air.

He tries to stand to his feet. Just moving his joints is agony, but his sense of urgency is greater than the pain. Elijah pushes himself up, grunting as he does so, fighting with the lingering fog in his head.

He feels something vibrating against his chest and realizes it's his phone.

"Caroline," he says, still a little out of breath.

"Elijah, something's going on with the witches again. I'm trying to call Klaus, but he's not answering."

"Listen to me," he starts, swallowing past the dryness in his throat. "You were right. Celeste is back. Niklaus, Rebekah. You're all in danger."

There's a loud bang on the other end of the line, and Elijah hears the voice a man saying _What's going on?_ in a rather alarmed inflection.

" _Shit_ ," Caroline hisses. "It's a trap. I didn't talk to any witches, I asked a vampire friend to deliver the message for me," she says, and Elijah is confused for a second before he realizes she's talking to the man.

"Caroline, you have to find Rebekah," he speaks. "Find her and _stay_ with her, do you understand? Caroline? Caroline!"

The line goes dead. Elijah curses under his breath, trying to reach Niklaus as he uses all the energy he can muster to run with vampire speed. The pain and the struggle do not matter now. Even if he drops dead at the end of this evening, he doesn’t care.

He needs to save his family.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"What is going on?!" Jackson grunts in frustration. He uses all his might to pull the front door open but it won't budge.

"It's a spell. They're trying to keep us trapped inside."

Caroline draws a sharp breath in and tries to quiet down the growing panic and clear her mind, reaching for the magic inside of her. She chants, loud and clearly, but nothing happens. Caroline shakes her head, straightens her posture and tries again, digging deeper this time, her face creasing with determination. And still there's nothing. It's like her magic has gone completely dormant.

"Damn it!"

"What is it? What's happening?"

"I don't know! My magic is jagged. They must've cursed the house."

Caroline starts combing her mind for a way out of this. To block out magic like this, the easiest way would be to use a cursed object. Before she has a chance to even start searching, however, the house goes up in flames. All around them, fire licks up the walls, the furniture, the curtains. Jackson holds her arm and pulls her with him as they try to escape through another room, but the fire rages on, cornering them.

Caroline's eyes start to burn with the heat and the smoke, and she's struck by a violent coughing fit. It's spreading too fast. The witches are trying to cook them alive.

Jackson wets a piece of cloth in a flower vase, shoving it into her face. "Breathe through this!" he cries out.

Caroline kneels down, trying to stay as close to the floor as possible, but even that is difficult. The smoke is taking over everything and the flames are getting way too close.

She presses her eyes shut, trying to feel the rumble of magic inside of her. _Come on, come on, come on_ , she pleads to all the cosmic forces in the universe, one of her hands clutching her belly tightly. Desperation is scratching against the back of her throat. This can't be how she dies. How everything ends. She didn't make it this far to die in a fire caused by vengeful witches. But even as she focuses all her energy into conjuring up her magic, she knows it won't work. It's like there's something blocking it — she can feel the magic, but it won't answer her calls.

All of her confidence melts down and disappears as fear washes over her. _Please, don't let my baby die, please..._

She's starting to feel herself dizzy, the edges of her sight turning black as she chokes on all the smoke, when there's a loud noise of glass exploding. The next thing she knows, there are arms around her, lifting her off the floor and whisking her away. The overwhelming heat suddenly dwindles and she feels herself gasping for fresh air. Her vision blurs, but she recognizes Elijah's stern expression, his eyes dark like the night. He puts her down on the ground outside, a safe distance away from the house, and when Caroline turns her face, she sees that everything has been consumed by the flames. There will be nothing left of the property.

_Jackson_.

She rolls over, trying to lift herself off the ground. Her magic is rumbling inside of he again; if only she could stop coughing for a second and _focus_ she might be able to–

"What are you doing? Stay down."

"Jack... Jackson," she stutters between coughing fits. "He's still inside. I have to–" More coughing. Her throat feels raw, like someone stuffed it with sandpaper. "I have to help him."

Elijah grunts, looking from her back to the house. "Stay here."

He flashes away and a moment later he's back with a frightened and coughing Jackson, barely conscious but alive.

Caroline sinks back to the floor, both hands on her belly as a stifled sob escapes her lips.

"Where's Rebekah?" Elijah asks.

She shakes her head. "She went out with one of them. The woods," she grits out. "I think she's in the– the woods." Elijah hesitates, and Caroline nods. "I'll be fine. Go."

Caroline shuts her eyes as Elijah blurs away. She draws a shuddery breath in, trying to calm herself down, her heart hammering against her ribcage. Already she's feeling better, more clear-minded. It must be the baby's vampire blood. That's a good sign; if her daughter's healing her, she's also healing herself. Jackson shouldn't take too long to recover either, with his werewolf strength. But there's a much deeper fear jolting through her.

She can feel it in her bones that this was a trap meant for someone else. Something must've happened to Rebekah, if she didn't rush back to the house as soon as the fire started. And Klaus hasn't picked up his phone all night. They used her to distract Elijah.

She came this close to dying, but it wasn't meant for her. It was meant for the Mikaelsons.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It doesn't take long for Elijah to convince himself he won't find Rebekah. There are signs of struggle all over the woods — and blood, too much blood. He senses werewolf stench everywhere, which tells him Caroline's _friends_ were likely in collusion with the witches.

They have his sister and, by now, Niklaus as well. The moment he decided to go for Caroline first, it didn't matter how fast he was, he never stood a chance to save his siblings.

A feral rumble escapes his mouth. This is all his fault. Celeste had been tricking him, biding her time. How could he be so naive? How could he not see this coming? He played right into her trap and never realized a thing.

It won't happen again.

They call Elijah the _noble_ one, think Niklaus is the worst of the worst. Celeste is about to find out she has no idea.

When Elijah returns to the house, the werewolf is gone. Caroline is up on her feet, staring mesmerized at the blazing structure as it turns to ash. Her face and clothes are covered in soot, but even from a distance Elijah can see the fierceness in her eyes. Her jaw is set, her shoulders tense, her lips pressed into a fine line.

"Rebekah?" she asks, her voice hoarse and thin, when he approaches.

"Gone."

Caroline presses her eyes shut, swallowing down hard. She looks down at the phone in her hand. "He's not answering his phone."

"He won't. They have him, too."

"Why are they doing this?"

Elijah gazes away from her, to the house where they lived as a family not long ago. "They want to destroy us. Our family. They call us monsters at the same time they trap a pregnant woman inside a house and set fire to it." He pauses, tasting something acrid in his mouth. "Well, if it's monsters they want, monsters they shall have."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"Marcel!" Elijah's voice thunders all through the compound. Caroline feels the thrum of it in her bones.

Anger flares hot within him and it's hard not to notice the shift in his demeanor. She's never seen him like this before. His eyes are wild with rage, hard like stones. If the witches thought they were leaving the softest Mikaelson free while they dealt with the reckless ones, they are about to find out they've made a mistake.

Caroline is still caught in a bit of a daze, still choked up with the horrifying certainty she was going to die. The taste of soot lingers in her mouth and she fights hard to ignore the dizziness that rises and falls like waves. But she can feel anger rearing its head inside of her, roiling in her gut, mixed with the nausea.

"Where is my brother?" Elijah demands, in a clipped, harsh tone.

"I got guys out looking for him right now," Marcel replies, motioning for Elijah to relax.

Big mistake. He grabs two vampires by the throat and breaks their necks with a flick of his wrists. Marcel's eyes narrow dangerously, gritting his teeth.

"Klaus threw one of his classic temper tantrums, snapped my neck and tried to take on a coven of witches by himself," he explains.

"Where was this?" Caroline asks.

"By Jackson Square," Marcel says. "But he's not there anymore and he's not picking up his calls either. All I know is the witches got him down. I don't know where they took him or how to find him."

"They also have Rebekah," Caroline tells him. Marcel's eyes flash, a muscle twitching on his jaw. Clearly he wasn't aware of the whole story.

"Every one of you will help me find them. This is not a request," Elijah speaks in a deceptively calm manner. "And then I'll kill them all."

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 1: Just in case someone didn't catch the reference (like Klaus), Caroline's line about Jesus _"He could be just a stranger on a bus, trying to make his way home, you never know."_ is a reference to _What if God Was One of Us_ , a song by Joan Osborne.
> 
> A/N 2: You may have noticed the lack of KC interaction in this chapter - again. Unfortunately, that goes on for a little bit. The thing is I didn't realize how dragged this whole Celeste vs Mikaelsons story line was on the show. It takes a few episodes for the whole thing to have a resolution. But it is a MAJOR part of the story, it gets a lot of things in motion and stuff that happens during this part will very much dictate where the whole story is going from here, so it's important. But like you, I'm here for the fan service. I _might_ put two chapters together to make things move a bit faster, and I suppose I could try to have a quicker update out as well, but you guys have to let me know if you'd like that or not. If you're not that interested, I'll update regularly and let the story flow. It takes work - not just from me, but also from my beta - to have these long chapters out, so I don't feel like it's fair to push through the extra work unless there's real interest. I realize this story can get very angsty and the chapters tend to be more on the longer side, so I like to give people enough time to read. This would be just a little treat cause I realize things will get TOUGH from here on. So let me know!
> 
> As always, I'm looking forward to your thoughts and feelings about this chapter. :) Don't be shy! I'll start: my favorite thing about this chapter was Jackson Kenner. ❤ lol I love him so much. He was my second favorite character from TO. Such a sweet human golden retrivier! So glad he's finally in the story.


	14. S01E14 Le Grand Guignol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really did decide to put two chapters together in order to make the story more dynamic. Certain things that work well on TV don't work so well on a written story. So this chapter is a combination of episodes 14 (Long Way Back From Hell) and 15 (Le Grand Guignol). I decided to name it after the second because I feel it's the most significant one. I hope it doesn't feel confusing or rushed.
> 
> As always, I have to thank [coveredinthecolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/pseuds/coveredinthecolors) for being super kind to take her time to read through two chapters in just one week. If you still find any mistakes there, they're all my own and I apologize beforehand.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone still reading this story, especially to the incredibly kind folks who stop by to chat on tumblr or drop me their comments here. You guys rock and are the true reason I'm putting so much effort into moving forward with this asap. ❤

* * *

 

The sky is still dark when Caroline's eyes fly open, sleep lifting off her body all at once like a blanket that’s been suddenly removed.

She rolls over and takes the phone on the nightstand to check the time. Less than three hours of sleep. It seems about right; she doesn't feel rested at all.

Caroline didn't even want to take three hours to restore. If it was up to her, she would've started searching for Klaus and Rebekah straight away, but Elijah insisted that she should replenish her energies before pouring all the little strength she still had into using her powers. As much as she objected on principle, he made some valid points.

It wasn't so much for her sake that she agreed to lie down for a bit, though. It was for the baby. If she says the ridiculous amount of stress she's been put under hasn't taken a toll on her, it'll be a blatant lie. Twice she felt a stab of pain in her lower belly that sent little alarm bells ringing. It wasn't the same as when the baby hits a particularly sensitive spot with her tiny potent kicks or even the sore muscles she gets after tiring days. This was... Different. Not yet worrisome, she wouldn't say, but enough to give her pause.

Caroline brushed it off as her body telling her that she needs to take a serious break from near-death experiences, but the truth is... She was a little bit shaken. It could be a number of things, including nothing at all, but with Klaus and Rebekah missing, she simply doesn't have time to find out, make sure everything's fine. She didn't tell Elijah, obviously; he'd tie her to a bed, lock her up and compel an entire medical staff to come fix her. But she couldn't exactly rebuke him when he insisted that she needed the break. He had no idea how true that was.

She doesn't feel like it did much for her, but she hopes it was at least enough for the baby's healing powers to kick in. Three hours is as much sleep as her high-strung brain would allow, even after a powered up chamomile tea, but it’ll have to do for now. When this is all over and Klaus and Rebekah are safely returned, the first thing she'll do is see a doctor.

And anyway — lingering exhaustion aside, everything feels normal. No pain, no bleeding, no other symptoms... The baby is even kicking a little. It’s not entirely reassuring, but it’s enough to calm her down.

The whole time she was asleep, Caroline had vivid, troubled dreams. At first, it was just her in the fire. She was trapped in the house while everything around her exploded in flames. She tried to scream, but her voice wouldn't come out. She tried to run, but her legs wouldn't move. And then Klaus showed up, walking out of the fire all beaten and bloodied, a hole the size of a fist where his heart should be. He looked straight at her, his eyes bright gold but filled with disappointment. _You couldn't save me, Caroline,_ he said. _And you couldn't let Elijah do it either. How do you expect me to save you now?_

She startled awake twice with a lump in her throat, sweat running down her forehead and a fright in her heart that she would never see Klaus again. And that she was to blame for it.

After Elijah explained how Celeste engineered her whole plan, Caroline couldn't help but feel responsible. She made it so easy for the witches, running off to the plantation house, not checking to make sure it was safe, fully trusting that all the werewolves there were part of Jackson's pack and as well-intentioned as him. After nearly seven months of this, she should've known better.

Bill Forbes's voice has been booming nonstop inside her head. _Worthless. A waste of magic. The biggest disappointment of my life._ Last night, she was everything he always thought of her. A better witch would've figured out a way to break out of the house on her own, without the need of a rescuer. A better witch wouldn't even get caught in that trap to begin with. But Caroline panicked. Again, fear got the best of her, made her paralyzed. Just as it did with Damon and while her father tortured her.

Elijah's so heartbroken... She could see it in his eyes, amidst the anger and the thirst for revenge, the guilt. He thinks he's the one who screwed up. But if he hadn't had to save her, if he could trust that she would've made it out of there on her own, he could've saved his siblings. He shouldn't have had to choose her.

Caroline hates to feel this fragile, this powerless. Years ago, she swore to herself that she would never be made to feel this way again. Fear is useless. It's counter-productive. And probably something the witches appreciate a lot. The more terrified she gets, the more in control they feel.

 _Enough_ , Caroline tells herself as she gets out of bed. Every muscle in her body screams, bone-weary and tense, but she refuses to let it hinder her. Bill Forbes was never right, about anything, and she's not going to fail her daughter like her father failed her. Caroline's had enough of people underestimating her, belittling her. She'll find Klaus and Rebekah if she has to scour this entire city, building by building, taking down every single witch who dares to get in her way.

 She takes a cold shower to wake herself up and lines her stomach with a glass of warm milk because it's all she can hold down. And then she gets to work.

Caroline goes into Klaus' room and takes one of his necklaces and then she goes through Rebekah's jewelry box and picks a hairpin that looks as expensive and old as it is beautiful. That's the starting point for her locator spells.

She tries five different types, and when none of them seem to work, she flips through grimoire after grimoire in search of new ones. It all fails.

Of course she expected them to be cloaked. Celeste wouldn’t go through all that trouble and then give up their location by not taking such basic precautions, knowing that Caroline would be right there with Elijah, trying to find them. But there _has_ to be a way to break through it.

"Come on, baby girl. Mommy needs you," she mutters, trying to channel the baby to power up her spell.

Caroline concentrates really hard, to the point she can almost feel the magic oozing out of her, a strange kind of static in the air. But not even that seems to be enough.

_Disappointment. A waste of magic._

She slams her fists down on the table, spilling all the dirt she was using on her spell, stifling a frustrated grunt.

"Nothing yet?"

Caroline raises her head to see Elijah standing by the door.

She shakes her head, her nostrils flaring as she slumps back against the chair. "It's like they've vanished. I even tried a larger map. Not even the extra battery here is enough to uncloak them," she says, placing a hand on top of her belly. "Better luck at the cemetery?"

"None," Elijah says around a tired sigh. While Caroline’s had at least a few short hours of sleep, however restless they might have been, he’s had zero. There's a world of difference between the needs of her very human pregnant body and his, but weariness is showing on every line of Elijah's face. "I got word that there was a witch commotion of some sort there and thought it would be a good opportunity to snap some uncooperative necks."

"And?"

"I snapped the necks, but it gave me no answers. I did, however, uncover a disturbing bit of news."

Caroline's face scrunches up into a grimace; she's already dreading what he's going to say. "Please. I can't take bad news anymore."

"Sophie Deveraux is dead."

She stills, her lips parting in shock. "What?"

"The _commotion_ was her consecration. Her niece, Monique, was there, apparently in charge of the ceremony and not the least bit distraught over the loss of her beloved aunt."

Caroline is pervaded by a strong sense of grief she would not expect to feel for someone like Sophie Deveraux. In a way, every terrible thing that's happened in the last six months started with her. But strangely enough, she never really hated Sophie for it. She never meant for Caroline or the baby to get hurt, however naive she might've been in thinking that she had everything under control. Sophie had no idea what she was stirring when she brought Klaus back to New Orleans; her plot put something much bigger than herself in motion. But now that Caroline thinks about it... It was _Sabine's_ vision of her baby what prompted Sophie and Jane-Anne to come up with that plan. Celeste used their despair to manipulate them just as she's done to everyone else. Sophie was yet another pawn in Celeste’s revenge.

Of all the people who have pissed her off or endangered her or her child since she got in New Orleans, Sophie is definitely the last person Caroline would've wanted to see dead. Despite everything, she was something of an ally, even if a reluctant one. Unreliable, sure, but they could at least trust her not to try to kill them. Given the current backdrop of New Orleans, that's saying a lot.

"How did she die?" she asks.

"A casualty of war, was Monique's explanation. Lukewarm at best for someone who just lost her last living relative."

"Am I crazy for feeling sorry?"

"I'm not exactly exultant about it myself."

"She was our only ally in the middle of those snakes."

"Or the only one with a shred of conscience left in her. It might be what got her murdered, in the end." Elijah blows out a breath. "Where is Marcel?"

"Out looking for them. I spoke to him an hour ago, still nothing. No one's seen anything." Caroline's eyebrows pinch at the center as she shakes her head. "I have no clue what they could possibly want to do with two indestructible immortals."

"Nothing good, I assure you. Celeste is doing this because she blames Niklaus for her death two hundred years ago and me for not avenging it. It's my fault it got this far."

"My fault, you mean," she mutters resentfully, getting that choked up feeling in her throat again. "If I had known Celeste was going to make you choose between your family and me—"

"Caroline," Elijah chides, a steely edge on his voice. "It's not your fault. This grudge has been dragging on for hundreds of years. You were going to die in that fire and so was my brother's child because that's exactly what Celeste wanted to happen. She wanted to hurt Niklaus and she wanted to hurt me. There was no choice. If I hadn't gone for you, my brother would never forgive me."

"Well. Now you might never have the chance to ask for forgiveness."

Caroline looks down at the map in front of her, at the useless spell that just won't work, and feels her fragile calm exploding into nerves. A snarl rips from her chest, and all the objects on the table go flying in the air, the grimoire she'd been consulting nearly hitting Elijah.

"I'm sorry," she grumbles, burying her face in her hands. "I hate to feel this powerless."

"I know," Elijah croons gently. "But we have to keep trying."

Caroline looks up at Elijah, a quiet understanding hanging between them. She clenches her fists tightly, her face setting to determination. "Ok," she speaks after a moment. "We're gonna power up this spell."

"How?"

"By channeling something extremely powerful." She gives Elijah a meaningful look, and he immediately understands.

"Will it work?"

"I don't know. Cloaking spells are tricky and they depend a lot on how powerful the witch that cast it is. I have a feeling _Celeste_ has been hiding her game, but there aren't many things in this world more powerful than an Original vampire and a hybrid baby."

"Where do you need me?"

"Sit down," Caroline commands, bobbing her head towards the vacant spot right across from her while she gets up to retrieve a few objects. She gets the map she sent flying a moment before, a bowl and a dagger, then returns to her place, smoothing out the map in front of her.

"What is that for?" Elijah asks, his eyes on the dagger.

"Blood." She cuts the palm of her hand open and lets the blood ooze into the bowl with barely a flinch. Then she passes him the dagger and waits until he does the same, mixing it up a little before dropping the blood in the middle of the map. "Give me your hands," she says, putting her own out for him to hold. "This is going to take a very strong connection. I need you to focus. Think about your siblings, the strongest memory you have of them. The strongest feeling. It'll help guide the spell. And whatever you do, Elijah, _do not let go of my hand_. Understood?" He gives the barest of nods.

Caroline closes her eyes, inhaling deeply before she begins with the chanting, words coming to her lips like a song. Her magic roars through her, stronger than ever as she taps into Elijah's power, connecting it with her own and the baby's, making it a single force that cannot be stopped. She directs it all towards the map, focusing so it is the only thing she sees in her mind.

And slowly but surely, the blood pools and then starts to move.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

The whole world has been reduced to undecipherable shades of grey. All around him, shadows have come alive, dancing between light and darkness, sinister and threatening. There's a heavy weight in his chest, something sharp and cold, sinking him down. It's crushing his lungs, making it hard to breathe, but try as he might to gasp for air, he can't.

Drowning. This feels like drowning.

Every time he tries to move, it sends a shock of pain like a wave traveling across his entire body, but none of his muscles respond to his commands. It hurts so badly, like being torn apart from the inside out.

His mind is a nebulous blur. He doesn't know where he is, or what is happening to him. It's hard to even follow any trains of thought. All he knows is pain and cold and agony. In some far corner of his head, he vaguely wonders if this is death.

A shadow moves closer to him. Too close. It reaches out, touches him. He can feel it. It burns his skin as though setting him on fire, every inch of him screaming in pain as something slides down his torso. Still, he cannot move.

And in the middle of all the pain and the feverish nightmare, there's a voice.

"You poor thing," it says. "Don't worry. I'm here to help."

Something sharp and cold touches his stomach, and then slices him open. The next thing, his entire body starts convulsing, his muscles cramping up violently as a roar rips from his chest. It's like coming up for air after hours, eons, under the cold, dark water. The world goes blindingly white, so bright it burns his eyes. Slowly, however, his vision flickers back.

The shadow he saw is a woman. Long red hair, icy cobalt eyes, a smirk on her lips. Her hand is covered in blood — his blood — and she's holding something.

Papa Tunde's blade.

The pain in Klaus' torso is almost too much for him to bear, and when he looks down he realizes there's a hole the size of a fist right under his chest. It's where the blade was. It slowly starts to come back, flashes of memory trickling in bit by bit.

He dragged Monique Deveraux all the way to Jackson Square, threatened to kill her if the three remaining resurrected witches didn't show their faces. Marcel tried to stop him. "I won't let you kill a child, Klaus!" he screamed. Klaus didn't care. He was going to get every last one of them down if that's what it took to keep Caroline safe. They were threatening his family, and they would never stop coming. But then...

It gets hazy.

The witches came. Dozens of them. And while Klaus wrestled Marcel, one of them stabbed him.

Sophie Deveraux. Yes, he remembers her face.

He remembers the pain. After that, everything's darkness. Until now.

Sophie must have stabbed him with Tunde's blade. And it remained inside of him until this woman ripped it out with her own hand. It kept him down, trapped in a state of feverish, semi-conscious torment.

Klaus is breathing hard, snarling like an animal. He tries to move, but his hands are tied. He's weak. Too weak to break free, too weak to even try to stand.

"I'll take care of that for you," the woman says, her voice smooth as silk.

She leans over and undoes the ties on both his wrists. Klaus balls his hands into white-knuckled fists at his sides, but the slightest bit of movement sends a vivid ache shooting through him. The wound isn't healing.

The woman steps away for a moment and returns with a bowl. "This will help you feel better," she says, a smile flickering over her lips.

Klaus hisses as she spreads a cold ointment over his torso. "I'm gonna need you to sit up now," she says, sliding a hand underneath him to push him up. He groans loudly, but doesn't protest. "That's good," she murmurs encouragingly. She wraps his midsection with gauze, and when she's done, she helps him slide back into his shirt. Even lifting his arms is strenuous.

"Why isn't my wound healing?" he asks, his voice dry and brittle.

"The amount of dark magic contained in that blade? It's gonna take a little while."

"You're one of them, aren't you?" He swallows past the rawness in his throat. Even speaking causes him pain. He's never felt anything like the power of this blade before. "The witches back from the dead, seeking vengeance. Why show me kindness?"

The woman looks at him with something akin to sympathy, cupping his face with her hands, tracing small patterns with the tips of her fingers. Her touch is warm and gentle and, after all that torture, somewhat of a relief.

"You never did anything to me," she says, leaning over him. "And the truth is, seeing you like this... I can't help but pity you."

"Then betray the others and stand with me," he says, sensing an opportunity. His mind is still wildly out of focus, but he hears her heart picking up as she comes closer. Her breath hitching when he holds her gaze. There's certainly a purpose behind what she's doing, but she's not entirely impervious to his charms, however impaired he might be at the moment. "I will reward you," he continues, flashing his dimples. "In ways you cannot possibly fathom."

The witch's face breaks into a satisfied smile. "Klaus Mikaelson, offering a deal to little ol' me? I should be flattered. But first..." She comes so close now he can feel her breath on his skin. "We need to have a talk about your sister."

The woman moves away, and Klaus exhales in annoyance, his temper fraying. "Rebekah is of no concern to you. If you mean to harm her -"

"Ah, the protective brother." She sighs. " Your devotion to your family is touching, Klaus. Did you know your brother Elijah was offered a chance to help one of you last night? Can you guess who he went to?"

It takes him but a second to read the malice on the woman's voice. But instead of feeling jealous, Klaus is awash with rage. They didn't just go for him and his siblings; they went for Caroline too.

"Caroline," he grits out.

The witch chuckles. "He's the fairy tale prince type, Elijah. Didn't even flinch before rushing to her rescue. He certainly cares a lot about her. I can see why. She's lovely. While you and your sister were brought here, Elijah gallantly jumped through a window to save her from a house in flames. There's something so... Romantic about it."

He grinds his teeth together furiously, his eyes flashing. "If you hurt Caroline–"

"Don't worry. She's safe and sound, in the arms of your brother. It's a shame your loyalty to your family isn't reciprocated. Then again, I'm no stranger to Rebekah's treachery myself. Something you and I have in common."

She approaches him again with another bowl in her hands. "Here. Drink this." It smells faintly like blood, but there's something else to it. He looks suspiciously at the witch. "I'm just trying to help you. Heal you. Get you to see the truth that's been right in front of you for almost a century."

Klaus _knows_ this is some kind of trap, but part of him is curious. He can't understand what this is all about. They stabbed him, but set him free. She could've let him agonize while the wound heals, but she eased away his pain. Are they trying to distract him? Use him? Strike a deal of some sort? If he's to fight these resurrected witches, he needs to figure out what they want.

So when she pushes the bowl against his lips, he doesn't resist. It's blood, indeed, but laced with venom. Klaus chokes on it, feeling it go down his throat like hot sand. The witch puts her palm on his mouth and pushes his head back to keep him from spitting it all out.

"Your sister had an unfortunate run in with some werewolves last night," she says. "I imagine you're tasting the venom in her blood. It's unpleasant, but it won't harm you. It's the only way I can show you what you need to see. In her weakened state, I'll be able to guide her down memory lane. That's how I'm going to have my revenge. By showing _you_ her betrayal."

The witch rubs her palms together, chanting something under her breath, and when she touches his forehead, everything goes dark.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Niklaus is dancing around the fire, a huge smile plastered on his face. Esther holds his little hands, twirls him around, and he throws his head back in merry laughter. She picks him up, whispering a secret into his ear, and he melts into a fit of giggles. She smacks a kiss on his cheek and puts him back down on the floor.

Elijah knows what she said because Niklaus would later confess to him that their mother would teach him how to win the heart of the prettiest girl in the village. "Father will make me a hunter, but mother will make me a dancer!" he says. "She gave me this." He shows Elijah a necklace around his neck. It has a wooden pendant in the shape of a bird. "She said it'll keep me safe, that I'm supposed to wear it always. Mother thinks I'm special!"

So proud, his brother.

Niklaus was the sweetest boy Elijah's ever met. Adorable with his golden locks, always so dreamy and kind. "Well, I better watch myself, then," Elijah says to him, stroking his hair "It'll be impossible to compete with you!"

A different day. Thunders roar furiously outside; rain pours down mercilessly. It's impossible to sleep with so much noise, but Elijah likes to watch the storm. It has a calming effect on him, not so much on his youngest sibling. Every time lightning strikes, Rebekah winces and gasps, scrunching up her face in fear.

"It's just a storm," Niklaus whispers, crawling over towards her. "Don't be afraid."

"Nik, don't go," she pleads in her tiny little voice as he moves away, but soon he's back, giving her a wooden knight he carved out of white oak.

"I carved it for father," he says, "It's a brave knight. Now you can be brave too."

Rebekah holds the knight close to her heart. "Will you stay with me until the storm ends?"

"I will always stay with you, Rebekah. Always." He takes her hand and lies down next to her. She curls up into him and soon they've both fallen asleep, the storm completely forgotten.

Niklaus and Rebekah were thick as thieves as children. He taught her how to hunt and fish, how to climb trees and use a sword. Their father would be mad in fury whenever he saw Rebekah playing with them, saying she was behaving like a savage and no one would ever want to marry her. He made her stay in the village with the older women, cooking, knitting and washing, never took her with them as they went into the woods. But despite her romantic heart, their sister never had any interest in being anyone's wife. She wanted to be her own person. Elijah, Finn and Kol were too scared of Mikael, too respectful of his authority. And so was Niklaus. But he loved Rebekah more than he feared Mikael's fury. And he always paid for it.

No, Elijah will not think of these times. He wants happy memories. Good memories. Niklaus' carefully crafted gifts. Rebekah's laughter.

How long has it been since they started this spell? It feels like forever.

He's scanned his brain for every bit of memory from their childhood, before bloodlust and darkness, before they were turned into beasts. But it hasn't been enough yet.

Caroline's squeezing his hand with such fierceness his fingers have gone dormant. A little bit more and she'll break his bones. He had no idea she had this kind of strength. She told him not to let go, and he hasn't, but, although he can feel _something_ is happening, he doesn't know what. Her chanting started low and soft, but her voice is escalated since, each word pronounced with such fervor it's as though she's commanding magic to answer her.

Elijah opens his eyes to spy on their progress with the map. The blood she spilled is moving, indeed, but painfully slowly. It's pointing towards a place outside the French Quarter.

He raises his eyes to her, and it gives him pause. Caroline's nose is bleeding profusely, blood running down her face as though she's been punched. Her face is creased in concentration, a determined frown between her closed eyes, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

This is leaving her drained. She's pouring all her energy, all her magic, into breaking through the cloaking spell concealing his siblings, and the strain shows on her face.

"Caroline," he calls, gently. She doesn't stop. If she hears him, she simply ignores it. "Caroline, you're bleeding. You have to stop."

Elijah knows she can't go on for much longer. The hemorrhage is getting worse. It's too much.

He tries to pull his hand free to break the channeling, but her grip tightens painfully. Her eyes fly open, and Elijah is taken aback by how they sparkle in gold, as if she were a werewolf. He thought he'd seen it before, but chalked it up as a trick of the light. Now it's crystal clear.

"Don't you dare let go," she grits out, immediately shutting her eyes again as she carries on with the spell.

Elijah can't go back to his memories, though. Not when Caroline looks like she's about to pass out at any minute. He's torn between concern and how desperately he wants to find his siblings. It's clear her spell is working, but at what cost? If she continues this for much longer...

Marcel walks in, exchanging a look with Elijah before approaching to peer at the map, the blood still slowly coursing its way on the paper. Something flashes across his eyes, his lips twitching nervously before he presses them tightly, and then moves away.

Caroline picks up the chanting yet again, her voice coarse and angry. A wind sweeps in all of a sudden, putting out the candles and forcing both Elijah and Marcel to turn their faces away. Then Caroline howls, letting go of Elijah's hands. The wind stops, the spell breaks.

"What is it?" Elijah asks, jumping from his seat. "Are you all right?"

She swallows down, her breath ragged, and then nods. "The baby kicked," she says, looking up at him with her clear blue eyes. Then she turns to the map. "It worked. The spell was completed. This is their location." She frowns. "Where is that?"

Elijah searches for Marcel. He's standing by the window, visibly agitated.

"Marcellus," he draws his name out as a warning. Marcel sighs, approaching again and taking a good look at the map in front of Caroline.

"That's the sanatorium," he says. "That's where you'll find them."

Elijah narrows his eyes suspiciously. "There's something you're not telling us."

"Marcel," Caroline says, pushing up the chair to look him square in the eye, her face still covered in blood. Elijah hands her the linen handkerchief from his pocket. "Klaus and Rebekah are _suffering_ right now."

He takes a few steps away, scrubbing a hand across his face before turning back to face them. "If I'm right," he starts. "You need to know exactly what we're walking into. I had a suspicion why they might've taken the two of them. And now that we know where they were taken... I'm almost certain I was right."

Caroline folds her arms across her chest, a stern look on her face. "Start talking."

"We did something, Rebekah and I. A hundred years ago. I think the witches are trying to use it against her, to pit her against Klaus. It's... Something you're not going to like."

"Marcellus," Elijah admonishes.

His eyes flicker away as he draws a breath in. "In 1919, Rebekah and I wanted to be together, but your brother wouldn't allow it. We'd been in love for ages, and tried to reason with him anyway we could. He refused to give us his blessing, spoke as though a relationship between us was a personal attack on him, a betrayal. We were always looking over our shoulders, afraid of our own shadows. You and your brother had the city on the palm of your hands. We knew it wouldn't be long before we got found out. And Rebekah... She lost decades of her life trapped in a box because of that. She didn't want to be daggered again, not to mention she was afraid of what he would do to me. Not all the love in the world would keep him from killing me. So... She came up with a plan. Something that would scare him away, force him to leave New Orleans, so we could finally be together."

Elijah cannot believe his ears... After centuries and centuries of success, 1919 was the year Mikael finally found them. Elijah never understood what tipped him off. No one in New Orleans knew of their father. As far as they knew, he was still scouring Europe after his children. No word had gotten out that they were in America. Klaus hadn't been out of control in decades. Everything was fine. They were finally, _finally_ happy.

And then everything changed...

"You didn't," Elijah grumbles, a bubble of anger forming at the pit of his stomach.

"What?" Caroline asks, confused. "What did you do?"

"We enlisted the help of a witch Rebekah worked with during the war. They were both nurses at the sanatorium. Her name was Genevieve. She used a spell to send a note... To your father."

"Oh _fuck_ ," Caroline grunts, her eyes widening as comprehension downs on her. "You called Mikael? You? And _Rebekah_? All those sad stories Klaus had been reminiscing about since he came back to New Orleans... It was you?!"

"We changed our minds pretty quickly," Marcel offers as means of justification. "I didn't fully understand what it meant at the time. We realized it was wrong, that we'd done something terrible. Rebekah tried to get Genevieve to undo the spell, but... It was too late. So instead, we had to erase our tracks. Make sure no one would ever find out what we'd done."

"So you killed the messenger," Caroline completes, shaking her head in disbelief.

"She was going to tell Klaus the truth. Genevieve had... A thing for him, I don't know. She thought if she came clean, he would be merciful. But Rebekah knew better. Anyone who knows Klaus, knows better."

"For the better part of a century, I have wondered how my father found us," Elijah starts in a deceptively calm voice. "What foolish mistake we had made to destroy our time in the one place we'd ever found happiness in. Did you know, Marcellus, I even blamed myself for a time?"

All those years he spent on his own, not knowing what had happened to Niklaus and Rebekah after they split up. He went back to Europe, hoping Mikael would follow him there and leave the other two alone. With loneliness and a terrible guilt as his only company, Elijah spent many nights awake, mulling over the terrible conclusion of their time in New Orleans. He blamed himself so much he couldn't face his family. And while he stayed away, Niklaus spiraled out of control yet again. The next time Elijah met him, he was no longer the same man he'd been until 1919. All that hope they'd built over years and years, all that light, had gone out. He became ruthless, brutal, at his absolute worst. Finding the moonstone and the doppelganger became his sole obsession. And whilst he pursued his goal of breaking the curse their mother placed upon him, he daggered Rebekah and left all of their siblings to rot in storages across the world, telling Elijah he'd finished them all for good.

Elijah hated himself almost as much as he hated Niklaus. His sweet Rebekah... Kol, so wicked, but so full of life. And even Finn, who they hadn't seen alive in 900 years. Elijah's dream of one day having his family together again, destroyed by the corruption of Niklaus' soul.

He gave up on his brother. Accepted there was no way to bring him back after the murder of their family. All Elijah wanted was to find the doppelganger before he did, so he could kill Niklaus in the one moment when he'd become vulnerable, during the transition. And he almost did it. He was ready to. It would've been the death of his soul, the end of his humanity. Perhaps in killing his own brother, he would’ve unleashed another monster into the world, the one inside himself. But in that moment he didn't care.

How close they came to complete destruction... How close Elijah was to finishing his own family... And it all started back in 1919, when Mikael came to New Orleans and burned down their dreams.

Blind rage rolls through Elijah like a wave, a grunt ripping from his throat, and suddenly he has his hands around Marcel's neck, squeezing his windpipe with his fingers as he smashes him back against the wall. "Niklaus treated you like a son," he snarls. "Rebekah -"

"I loved her," he grunts out, his voice only above a breath. "I still love her. All we wanted was to be together, but as long as Klaus was around, it was never gonna happen. I guess you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

The challenge in his voice makes Elijah's blood boil, and he tightens his grip, longing to hear the _crack_ as the bones in his neck snap. Who does he think he is to imply that Elijah would ever be as malign as he and Rebekah were?

"Elijah." Caroline's pleading voice breaks through the turmoil in his head, and he pauses. With a distasteful grunt, he drops Marcel.

"When Niklaus learns the truth, there will be no end to his rage," he says, fixing Marcel with a scorching glare. "I will not let my sister suffer his wrath, but I will do nothing for you."

Marcel straightens up his posture, rubbing the spot on his neck Elijah had been gripping. "Then we need to get to them before he learns the truth."

As much as he would love to teach Marcel a lesson or two, he's right. And he's going to need assistance to get Niklaus and Rebekah out of that sanatorium safely.

They start for the door, but Elijah whips around when Caroline follows. Before he can say anything, though, she speaks first. "I'm coming with you."

"Caroline, you've just exerted yourself with that spell. We don't know what we're going to find there, what other terrible punishments these witches might have planned. I'm not letting you get hurt as well."

She presses her lips together, her eyes flashing golden again as a look of determination sets on her face. "Those witches have done nothing but threaten me since the day they dragged me here. You are completely out of your mind if you think I am going to sit back and wait while the father of my child is in their hands."

Caroline pushes him out of the way and storms off. Elijah sighs. He would rather not have her anywhere near the witches. It could be yet another trap. But he cannot blame her for wanting to fight. After everything she's been through, it's only natural.

He exchanges an awkward look with Marcel. "Did you see her eyes?"

Elijah simply ignores the question. "Anything happens to her, Marcellus, and I will personally blame it on you."

With that, he follows Caroline to the car. He can only hope that two vampires and a witch powered on werewolf blood is enough to take their enemies down.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

The trumpets blast loud to the tune of ragtime music.

The place is packed. People dancing, chattering, drinking. The very air thrums with joyful energy. It's a memory, Klaus realizes. But not one of his own. He went to many, _many_ parties such as this one. As a matter of fact, he was usually the one hosting them. But this isn't the compound. It looks more like... Rousseau's. Or what Rousseau’s looked like a hundred years ago.

"Get it while you can! It's the last real gin in the city."

The familiar voice cuts through the noise and catches his attention. Klaus sees Rebekah, resplendent in a pearly dress. She picks her way through the crowd to a table and is joined by...

Klaus narrows his eyes. It's the witch. Her hair is curled into an elegant do and she looks beautiful in a dark dress. This is her memory.

"You're nothing like I thought you would be when I first met you," she tells Rebekah. "I was brought up to think your kind were..." She smiles nervously. "Well..."

"An abomination of nature?" Rebekah offers with a nonchalant shrug.

"You're anything but!" the witch exclaims. "Not just you, your whole family is so..." She trails off as her eyes catch something. Klaus follows her gaze to see Elijah walking in. The witch sighs. "Elegant."

"Yes, I agree," Rebekah says, a proud smile on her red-painted lips. "Elijah is quite peerless."

"I don't know. I mean, he's nice and all, but... If I had to go for one Mikaelson boy..."

"Klaus?" Rebekah asks in disbelief, huffing out a laugh. The witch hides her blushing cheeks behind her glass. Klaus doesn't know why, but he feels a bit of a pang. He's always known Rebekah preferred Elijah, but the way she scoffed just then... Does she really find it so impossible a woman would prefer him over their brother?

"Genevieve, who'd have thought a saintly little witch like you would go for the bad boys? I knew we were destined to be friends," his sister says, a conspiratorial grin on her face.

 _Genevieve_. That's her name, then.

Klaus doesn't remember ever hearing it before, especially not from Rebekah. She was probably not a prominent member of the witch community at the time. He doesn't understand why Rebekah would want to be friends with someone so... low on New Orleans' social scale. His sister was always as much of a snob as himself or Elijah, sometimes more.

"Well, there's a load of us Mikaelsons," Rebekah continues. "If you like bad boys, you'd _love_ my brother Kol."

"And where is this mystery brother of yours?"

The smile on Rebekah's face falters. Kol was very much daggered at the time. "It's complicated," she says. "Like all siblings, we've had our ups and downs. Family feuds."

There's a pause. Genevieve is clearly uncomfortable with the silence, probably thinking she touched a raw nerve by inquiring about Kol. But it's Rebekah's behavior that makes Klaus antsy. She shifts in her seat, looking away, and something in her demeanor changes.

"In fact..." she starts again. "I was thinking of reaching out to someone we haven't seen in a very long while. I was hoping that maybe you could help me contact them. But it would have to be a surprise. No one could know."

"Of course," Genevieve says, smiling again, her blue eyes filled with kindness for her new friend. "Do you want me to find your brother Kol?"

A muscle in Klaus' jaw twitches, his lips pressed together in a tight line. Even before she says anything, Klaus feels anger rising inside.

"Actually I'd like you to find Mikael. Our father."

" _Enough of your lies_!"

Rebekah's words rattle in his head as he howls in rage. Suddenly, he's back at the old infirmary room, lying on a gurney with his wrists tied.

"Don't dismember the messenger," Genevieve says. "Part of you must have known. Suspected, at least. Your father came to New Orleans in 1919 to kill you, did he not? And as the city burned, he nearly succeeded."

Klaus sits up, grinding his teeth at the witch. She's lucky he's still too weak, or else she would've lost that pretty head of hers already. "My family and I have done some terrible things to each other over the years. But Rebekah would not call my father," he hisses out, his voice cracking up at the end.

The mere thought of Rebekah betraying him in such a vile way is... unfathomable. They're no strangers to heartbreak and treachery. But this... _No_. His sister would never invite Mikael into their homes to murder him. She hated Mikael, same as all of them. Centuries and centuries they spent together, running away from their father's cruelty.

He shakes his head. "No matter how angry she was, she wouldn't do this."

"It's sweet of you to believe that. To believe in her. But by the time we're done here, you'll know just how wrong you are."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

The Fleur de Lis sanatorium is enormous. And completely abandoned. Looks like nobody's been there in decades. Not a single light shining anywhere.

"We should split up," she says as they all climb out of Elijah's car. "We'll cover more ground."

"I'm going with you," Elijah says.

Caroline casts him a hard look. "We're splitting up," she repeats, her words clipped and demanding. "Don't waste your time patronizing me when your siblings' lives are on the line. Yell if you find anything. This place is so barren you can probably hear a needle dropping inside. I'll start on the east wing."

She doesn't wait to hear any more objections before she goes in. There's no time.

Her footsteps echo across the empty corridors. There are dozens of rooms, but most of the doors have been ripped off, so she doesn't have to stop on each of them to check. The place is quiet as a tomb. She feels a sullen kind of anticipation swelling inside of her. If they were here, she should be able to hear _something_. It makes her fear for the worst.

If Marcel is correct, then what the witches want is to rally Klaus against Rebekah by revealing the truth about how Mikael found them in 1919. They don't just want to take revenge on Rebekah or Klaus... They want the family to self-destruct. If Klaus does anything against his sister, Elijah will never forgive him. He might even want retribution. The Mikaelsons will tear at each other's throats. Their unshakable bond will certainly not survive this.

Honestly, Caroline's shocked herself. She doesn't even know the whole story, just bits and pieces she’s picked up over time. Even after so many years, Klaus is still reluctant to talk about it, like the wound is still open. New Orleans means a lot to them and it meant a whole lot more a hundred years ago. If Rebekah and Marcel are really responsible for destroying everything... He will never forgive her. Caroline cannot think how anyone will be able to stop him from, at the very least, daggering his sister for the next millennium.

Not even Damon and Stefan hurt each other quite like the Mikaelsons. That is one hell of a complicated family Caroline has inadvertently joined. She'd say she hopes her daughter doesn't take after her father's side, but her family isn't exactly what she'd call a role model either. Baby girl Forbes-Mikaelson will come into this world with quite the baggage.

Caroline stops dead in her tracks when she hears the sound of heels clicking down the hall. It's coming towards her. She waits, ready to knock down whoever it is with the full power of her anger at this whole shitty situation. She sees as the shadow slowly takes shape as it approaches, and then finally stops, close enough that Caroline can see her.

She narrows her eyes at the woman. Tall, slender, long red waves and icy blue eyes.

She smiles at Caroline, her lips twisting into a wicked curve, and Caroline realizes — she's seen this woman before.

At the church.

"You," she breathes.

"It's nice to see you again… Caroline."

"You must be Genevieve," she says curtly.

"Oh! So you know who I am. I'm flattered."

"What have you done to him?" she demands through gritted teeth.

Genevieve shrugs. "Nothing. Just... Helped him see the truth about his siblings. Always and Forever, as it turns out, is more one sided than he thought."

Rage explodes inside of Caroline. With an unnatural kind of speed, she grabs Genevieve by the shoulders and smashes her back against the wall, breathing hot on her face. The witch groans in pain, surprise flickering across her face before the cold mask of superiority slides down.

"Wow," she breathes. "That baby really is special. You have the strength of a werewolf."

"And the anger of an Original hybrid to go with it."

"I have nothing against you, Caroline. You're pregnant with Klaus' child. And you're one of us."

"I am _not_ one of you!"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Does it really look like that's what's about to happen here, you evil bitch?"

"Evil?" Genevieve chuckles. "No, I'm not evil. Unless you think being betrayed and murdered by someone you considered a _friend_ isn't good enough reason to be royally pissed off."

"Do I look like I care? What have you done to them?!"

" _I_ didn't do anything. But while you threaten me, Klaus is out there... Chasing Rebekah."

Reluctantly, Caroline lets go of Genevieve, her eyes flashing. "If anything happens to either one of them—"

"It will be Rebekah's own fault," she says, smoothing down her clothes. "It's about time this family learns some consequences. But don't fret. I’m sure we'll be seeing each other again."

With an arrogant smile that doesn't meet the wickedness in her eyes, Genevieve walks away. It takes every ounce of self-control in Caroline's body for her not to wipe that smile off with her fists, but Genevieve is annoyingly right. There are more important things to do right now.

Picking up her pace, Caroline continues her march down the hall, going in the direction Genevieve came from. She pushes through a couple double doors along the way, until she hears a scream. Her blood turns to ice as she recognizes Rebekah's voice.

She rushes towards the sound, all the way to a set of stairs leading to an underground level. Before she can go down, two people flash by her, nearly knocking her off her feet.

"Caroline."

"Rebekah." The Original sister is worse than she's ever seen her — and that includes the times Caroline's seen her with a dagger in her heart. Bloodied, beaten, disheveled. An ashen and sickly aspect to her that Caroline didn't think vampires could ever have. Come to think of it... She reminds Caroline of how Elijah looked after Klaus bit him. She hopes to god Klaus wasn't the one to do this to his own sister...

"We have to go, Rebekah!" Marcel says, grabbing her arm and pulling her along. Then the two of them whoosh away.

The fact Rebekah somehow managed to escape does not make Caroline any more relieved.

She practically jumps down the stairs, to find Elijah cradling his brother's body. A gasp escapes her lips as she approaches the two of them. Klaus' eyes are open, rimmed with tears and unblinking, his lips parted. There's but a single blood stain in the middle of his chest, but no daggers or stakes. She crouches down next to him, touching his forehead, slowly allowing her hands to slide down and search for a pulse. It's weak, but it's there.

She looks up at Elijah. "What happened?"

Elijah swallows, refusing to meet her gaze. He stands to his feet, lifting Klaus in his arms. "Let's take him home," he says gravely.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"Papa Tunde's blade is _inside_ of him?"

In the brief years Caroline's known Klaus, she's seen him in varying degrees of vulnerability, but not even at his absolute worst, most desperate moments, he’s been anything like this. He looks decrepit and sickly and every once in a while he’ll let out a pitiful wail that makes her believe that, on top of everything else, he’s also in terrible pain. Alive, but only just; trapped in a weird comma. He’s feverish and sweating profusely, but he responds to absolutely nothing.

She lets out a loud horrified gasp when Elijah removes his shirt. There's a line running from his chest to his navel right in the middle of his abdomen. It's not an open wound, but it might as well be. It looks red and infected. Something rotten and noxious that makes the hairs on her arms bristle emanates from the spot, a faint smell of sulfur filling her nostrils. She doesn't think Elijah can pick up on it, but she knows exactly what it is. An impossible amount of dark magic, spreading across Klaus' body like a disease. No wonder he's in so much pain... The mere touch of this thing took down Rebekah.

"Every second it remains causes Niklaus untold suffering," Elijah says as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt.

"Who stabbed him?"

"I did."

Caroline's face snaps to him like thunder. " _You_ put that thing inside of him?"

"I didn't have a choice," he offers, looking apologetically at his brother, shame written on every line of his face. "He was going to use it on Rebekah."

"And you couldn't have just snapped his neck?" she asks, her voice laden with irritation. "Do you have _any_ idea the amount of dark magic radiating from him right now? It's giving _me_ a freaking headache. What do you think it's doing to him?"

"I understand your concern, Caroline, and believe me, I am terribly sorry for hurting my brother this way. But you've never been persecuted by Niklaus. You don't know what he's like when he wants to destroy you. Rebekah could barely outrun him in the state she was in and he took pleasure in beating her into the ground. I had to give her a head start. Now, I will remove the blade. But you might want to take a step back."

With a reluctant huff, Caroline does, allowing Elijah space. He takes a knife from the nightstand and cuts Klaus open in half. Caroline bites on her lip, tasting bile in her mouth as Klaus lets out a low and guttural moan.

"I suggest you look away now."

She scrunches her eyes shut when Elijah sticks his fist inside his brother's stomach. The sound that escapes Klaus' mouth sends an awful shiver up Caroline's spine. When Elijah finally pulls the blade out, the muffled moan turns into a fully-fledged groan. He arches his back and then falls down against the pillow breathing hard.

Elijah puts the blade away and takes a towel to wipe his bloodied hand clean.

“I can’t believe you did this to him,” Caroline says, giving Elijah a look like a silent growl. “We were there to save him, not stab him. He’s your _brother_.”

“And Rebekah is my sister, and right then, she was the weakest link. I don’t want to go against either of them, but what was I supposed to do when my hybrid brother wanted to murder my poisoned sister?”

Caroline bites back a retort, shaking her head, indignation still flaring up inside of her. She can kind of see Elijah’s point, but absolutely nothing should justify putting someone you care for through the kind of torment this blade can inflict. It makes her want to _punch_ Elijah.

"He will be weak as he recovers from this," he says. "I need you to sit with him. Perhaps use this time, before he's back to his full strength, to persuade him not to murder his baby sister. If there's anyone in this world who can talk him out of it, it's you."

"Where are you going?"

"After the ones responsible for this."

Elijah leans over his brother, Klaus' bloodshot eyes blinking open at last and following him sluggishly. "Niklaus," he whispers. "It was not my desire to bring you pain, but I will not see you hurt Rebekah. Now, I fear Sabine might be making a final move against us. I intend to find her and end this."

"Elijah..." Klaus breathes out, his voice only above a whisper. "You will pay... for this..."

Elijah exchanges a meaningful look with Caroline before he leaves. It's exactly as she thought... Whatever happens now, the damage is already done. They revealed the truth about Rebekah’s unforgivable treason and then forced Elijah to take sides. She can’t even fathom the kind of resentment Klaus must be harboring towards his siblings right now. He won’t ever let that go.

The mission Elijah has entrusted her with — to convince him to drop his revenge plans — seems like an impossible one. But she has to try. Like it or not, this is her family too, now. The story of how daddy lost his shit and murdered auntie Bekah and uncle Elijah is not one she looks forward to telling her daughter one day.

She approaches the nightstand, attracted by the magic radiating off the infamous Tunde blade. Just letting her fingers hover above it she feels tiny little discharges running up her arm like electricity, only worse. It's a cold, dreadful sensation, like her muscles are cramping up just by being close to it. The magic in this thing is incredibly powerful, like nothing she's ever seen on an enchanted object before. Not even the moonstone Esther used to bind Klaus' werewolf curse was this strong. It's malign. Dangerous. No wonder vampires were dropping like flies, no wonder Rebekah was such an easy prey. This weapon not only can take down Klaus Mikaelson, but it can _keep_ him down indefinitely.

Caroline suddenly feels a million miles away from home. She's seen a great number of awfulness back in Mystic Falls, and the _expression_ magic Professor Creepy got Bonnie practicing was certainly not natural. But this is... Something else. This blade is hatred and corruption made tangible. Something worse than death. Mystic Falls was a peaceful haven compared to New Orleans. And they used to think Klaus was the worst they'd ever have to deal with... On New Orleans’ scale of evil, Klaus is not even close to the top.

Caroline's face snaps to him as he draws in a shuddery breath, tremors wrecking his body. A knot twists in her stomach, a ripple of sadness going through her. She can sense his agony just by looking at him. Whatever she might feel about Rebekah's betrayal, or Klaus trying to kill his own sister, or Elijah stabbing him with a blade forged in hell — seeing Klaus like this breaks her heart.

She sits down beside him on the edge of the bed, trying not to cause him any more discomfort. He turns to her with an undisguised expression of hurt, his eyes dark and unflinching, threatening of a storm to come just as soon as he's recovered some of his strength. Caroline tries to conceal some of her own distress, smoothing her expression into something gentler and less horrified.

"I was so worried," she croons softly, her voice rich with affection as she touches the side of his face. His skin still feels too warm; the fever hasn't broken yet. She runs her fingers through his hair, and Klaus shuts his eyes, leaning into the touch. The lines on his face soften just barely and he allows a fraction of the tension on his body to ease, leaning into the touch. "For a moment there... I thought I wasn't gonna see you again."

"I know..." he murmurs, looking at her again. "I know Elijah chose you."

"He was tricked, Klaus. They jagged my magic and trapped me inside the plantation house, then they set it on fire. He rushed to you and Rebekah after, but it was too late."

A muscle twitches on Klaus' jaw. "For the first time... I'm glad... For my brother's feelings for you."

"You're too weak for this. Stop talking, ok?" She pulls up the sleeves of her cardigan and offers him her wrist. He gives her a questioning look. "I know you have a blood stash, but I know you'd rather have it fresh and warm. Go on."

Klaus hesitates, the veins around his eyes bulging as he focuses on the blood pumping inside of her, and the temptation proves too great to resist. In the state he's in, he'd feed from a rat. Caroline winces when he sinks his teeth into her arm, bracing herself to endure the pain for a while, but Klaus barely has any blood before he pulls away, licking the corners of his lips.

"That's it?" she asks, confused. He's clearly starving and the blood would help him heal faster. The cut Elijah opened on his chest isn't even completely closed yet. But Klaus merely gives her a pointed glance, as though it's _obvious_ why he won't do it. "Really? If you'd read my pregnancy books you'd know a woman's blood amount can increase by 40% while she's expecting. Besides, I heal fast." Like a stubborn child, Klaus simply faces away from her. She shakes her head, wiping her wrist clean. "Well, maybe it's for the best. You need to chill out for a bit."

"Spare me the lecture, Caroline. I'm too weak for one of your talks," he grumbles.

She feels a rush of relief that his temper is finally rearing its ugly head again.

"Well, I’m sorry, but we have to talk about this, and there’s no point in waiting until _after_ you’ve killed Rebekah to bring it up. She's your sister, Klaus," she says, gently. "I get the anger. I get the disappointment. The resentment. But how can you hate her?"

A shadow flickers across his eyes. "Because she's done what no one else has managed to do to me for a thousand years," he says, emotion thickening his speech. "Rip my heart out."

 

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After a while, Caroline becomes tired of wrestling Klaus back into bed. He's not making her life any easier, but then again, he's not sure he wants to. His feelings at the moment are... convoluted, to say the least.

Klaus would never forgive Elijah if he'd chosen to save either him or Rebekah first. They might be his siblings, but they're immortals. If he hadn't rushed to Caroline's aid, she'd be dead now. In a way, he's truly glad his brother's feelings spoke louder than familial bonds. Klaus would rather spend a lifetime agonizing, trapped in that blade's hell, than to be alive in a world where Caroline is dead. He just... Finds it really hard to forgive Elijah either way.

Rebekah didn't just betray him, she betrayed all of them. What she did was unforgivable, worse than anything Klaus has ever done to any of them. And yet Elijah refused to condemn her, choosing instead to stab him with that blade so she could run free with her accomplice, putting him back in that state of raw, inescapable anguish. He can’t shake the feeling that his imprisonment offered his brother a glimpse of the life he wants for himself. One where he and Caroline don't have to dance around their hearts' true desires for the sake of his bastard brother, who happens to be the father of the child she carries. Such an inconvenience... Elijah must terribly regret having convinced him to stay in New Orleans all those months ago.

A sister who tried to have him murdered by the hands of his worst nightmare. A brother who would rob him of what he loves the most in this world. And Caroline...

Klaus believes that she is sincere in her concern for him. He heard them talk before Elijah removed the blade; she was scolding him. But the memory of the two of them so close together on that night still plagues Klaus' thoughts, stirring something dark inside of him. It’s stronger than ever now, after the stabbings, as though the dark magic imbued into the blade has reinforced all the resentment and the hurt harbored in his chest. As hard as he tries to forget it, the vision has been seared onto his mind. It just won't go away.

And still, her mere presence is a comfort. When she touched him, for the briefest of moments, all the pain was lifted and his entire body relaxed, his mind reeling back to that one perfect morning in Mystic Falls. Whenever Klaus finds himself in need of solace, of a safe harbor, that is where his mind wanders off to. Caroline’s genuine smile. Caroline’s warmth. Caroline’s embrace.

As angry and as hurt as he might be, he can't foster for her the same kind of animosity he has for Elijah or Rebekah. He wants Caroline to be safe, first and foremost, and he wants her to stay near, even if she isn't sure he's the one she wants. It's pathetic, really. A creature as old as him, succumbing to these juvenile desires. It's an Achilles' heel, makes him weak. It's why he had shielded himself against it for so long. Somehow, Caroline chipped away at his defenses and made it past his walls.

Perhaps, if she wasn't pregnant with his child, he could let her go, live her life whichever way she wanted to, hoping that maybe one day she would be ready to accept what he has to offer. He was ready to do that, allow her to seek a pitiful facsimile of happiness with that insidious boyfriend who never deserved her. But now he cannot imagine her raising their daughter alongside anyone else. He can't be connected to her through a child and not _want_ her. Not want both of them. Even if he has no idea what that means, what it entails. He just knows that he _wants_ it, and the idea of losing it to his own brother...

No. He cannot tolerate it. He won't.

But Elijah will have to wait. There are more important reckonings to be made right now.

If he knows Marcel at all, he won't leave the French Quarter without retrieving a precious treasure that currently lies shrouded inside a tomb at Lafayette Cemetery, but that could rise at any minute, if only the right witch is brought down. If Marcel knows him at all, then he knows that what Klaus did to poor Carol Lockwood will be nothing compared to what he'll do to Davina Claire if he and Rebekah escape. The poor girl, who's been through so much already, will pay for their cowardice. Klaus won't spare her a second time.

He took from him what he valued the most. His city. His friends. His family. His life. He will repay by taking away Marcel’s most precious treasure: his little witch.

He likes that girl too much to leave her unprotected at his mercy. She wouldn’t last a day. They may have run away, but they'll come back, possibly while they think Klaus is still too weak to give them chase. He needs to have eyes and ears all over the Quarter for any sightings. And then he needs to act quickly.

Klaus scrambles for his phone and sends out a few messages to some trusted spies. It drains a considerable amount of his meager energy just to do that, so he needs to lie back and wait a moment before he can push himself off the bed again. He tumbles his way to his dresser and finds himself a clean shirt. In the state he's in, he won't even make it down the stairs without tripping. The pain is still monumental and the fever hasn't broken; every time he draws in a deeper breath, his chest burns. But he's way too stubborn to sit still; Klaus needs to reach the blood stash.

As he slowly does his buttons up, he steals a glance at Caroline. She gave up on manhandling him and slumped back into the armchair by the fireplace, resting her eyes. Klaus doubts anybody has had a worse day than his, but Caroline's must've been only marginally better. She went to the sanatorium with Elijah, which probably means she hasn't had much sleep, and before that, she almost died in a fire. Anger flares hot as he thinks of it, makes him desperate to close his hands around Celeste's neck and squeeze until her eyes pop out.

She looks serene there, on the chair, but Klaus can see the evidence of exhaustion showing on the corners of her lips and the light pinch between her eyebrows. In a perfect world, he would take her to her room and allow her a moment of respite. This much strain cannot be healthy for a pregnant woman. But in a perfect world, his sister wouldn't have betrayed him and his brother wouldn't have put him through unimaginable pain. There's no respite to be had in the real world. Nobody gets their happy ending.

Klaus tries to stand up and his legs buckle under him, his muscles traitorously failing. His struggle pulls Caroline out of her break and she's on him in a second, putting an arm around his shoulders to steady him.

“Oh, for God's sake, Klaus. What are you doing?" she chides, gently guiding him back to the bed. "Where do you think you're going like this? You're too weak to walk."

"I'm still hungry."

Caroline rolls up her cardigan again and puts her wrist out for him, raising her eyebrows. Klaus puts her arm down. "I'm not feeding on you again."

"Why not? Is my blood stale or something?"

"Why do you want me to bite you?"

"Because I'm trying to help you. See?" She shows him the wrist he fed on not long ago, her skin perfectly smooth. "I'm _fine_. And your hesitation is exactly why the best thing for you is to feed on me. You won't hurt me."

Blood sharing is an extremely intimate thing, and there's maybe a part of him satisfied that she's so insistent on allowing him to feed on her, flattered by her blind belief that he wouldn't harm her. But the truth is... He wouldn't trust himself not to lose control. Not with how famished he is, not after the torment he was put through and how deeply it has penetrated his mind. Klaus cannot rely on his own limbs to move according to his will right now; how could he rely upon his instincts?

He looks away. "There's a fresh supply in the kitchen."

"Well, you obviously won't make it that far. You’re going to break your neck trying to go down those stairs and lord knows how long it will take you to wake with how weak you are. So why don't you behave like a good boy and get back to bed?"

He snorts. "If I had a quid for every time a woman has tried that line on me..."

Caroline raises an unimpressed brow. "You'd be poor."

His lips slant into a small grin. "I beg to differ. Some women actually find me charming."

"You mean like Genevieve?" she bites out.

Klaus blinks at her. "You know about her?"

"I had an unfortunate run-in with her at the sanatorium last night."

Klaus' mouth quirks into a faint smirk. "Don't be jealous, love. Genevieve helped me."

"Helped you?" Caroline echoes with indignation. "She used you, Klaus. Don't get fooled by her batting her eyelashes at you. To get her revenge on Rebekah, she pit you against your sister."

"My sister sought this all on her own. And Genevieve is quite right to hold a grudge. She was young, with her whole life ahead of her, thought she was lending a hand to a dear friend and was repaid by Rebekah with suffering and death. And so was I."

"She's your family, Klaus," she pleads. "She stuck by you through thick and thin. Shouldn't that mean more to you than some witch you don't even know?"

"Oh, it most certainly should. I'd ask her the same thing. I gave her my blessing to be with Marcellus. I found it in me to be happy for them. My sister and my best friend. I let my guard down and gave in, I grew soft. More fool, I," he says, his voice sharpening in an instant, tight and laced with venom. "They'd already betrayed me and brought to town the one thing I'd been running from for centuries." The stabbing ache returns, and Klaus feels as once more the darkest part of his rage awakens. "You know... The night Mikael finally found us, we'd gone to the Opera. Elijah, myself, Rebekah and Marcel. A big, happy family. Les Huguenots. One of my favorites. Do you know the story?" Caroline shakes her head once. "It's a tale of forbidden love, a Romeo and Juliet of sorts. On the day they are to marry, family and long-festering hatred intervene. Thousands are massacred."

Klaus pulls himself up again, his chest tightening, but this time not in anger, but with loss. He lost something the night before, just as he had in 1919. His eyes become distant as he flashes on the last bits of bliss they had, heading to the Opera with the confidence and swag of the untouchable rulers of New Orleans.

"A father even kills his own child in the final act," he continues. "I can almost appreciate the irony."

 

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Elijah did not expect Sabine's trail to lead him to the Bayou. But he was even more surprised to find the witch being held at gunpoint by the werewolves.

Apparently the Crescents were a lot smarter about restraining her than a bunch of millennium old vampires.

She's grinding some form of concoction in a jar with her hands bound together while the sweet-looking Eve holds a shotgun to her head.

"What is going on here?"

Sabine looks up at him, her lips twisting into a wicked smirk. "Are you here to rescue me as you did Caroline?"

"Eve," he says, ignoring Sabine’s taunt and turning to the other woman.

"She has to do something for me. Then she's all yours."

"What is she doing?"

Eve hesitates. "Breaking Marcel's curse."

Elijah's brow furrows. "What?"

"Caroline called us yesterday. Apparently Marcel managed to come up with a list of all the witches whose bodies _Celeste_ inhabited over the years. One of them was called Brinne Deveraux. The witch who cast the curse on the Crescent wolves back in the 90s. Only a witch of the Deveraux bloodline would be able to break it, and seeing how Sophie has been conveniently eliminated, we didn't think we'd make it happen any time soon. But Caroline connected the dots. _Celeste_ is the one who cast the spell while inhabiting Brinne’s body. So she can undo it."

Elijah's eyes cut to the witch, who continues to calmly mix the herbs. "I've already performed the counter spell," she says. "This potion will serve as a conduit. Come next full moon, you make sure they all drink this, and it'll be undone."

"This sounds like a fantastic way to poison all of them."

"I have no reason to do that."

"Whatever she's promised you, Eve, she's lying."

"She's the only one who can help my pack," Eve objects.

"She cannot be trusted. Do you have any idea what she has done to our family?"

Eve's eyes flash, and Elijah senses movement right behind him. The wolves aren't far.

"I know you want revenge, so do we. She could've killed Caroline and Jackson at that fire. But right now we need her to undo the spell," she says in a clipped, measured tone that commands an authority Elijah had failed to perceive about her. Eve is a lot more dangerous than her polite ways and soft voice suggest.

Sabine finishes her mixture and puts the lid back on the jar, handing it over to Eve. Before the wolf woman can take it, however, Elijah steals it from her, grabs Sabine none too gently by the arms and flashes away, Eve's angry screams and the howling of wolves following them as they blur away into the woods.

When he deems they are far enough away from any unsolicited interruptions, he finally stops, pushing Sabine against a tree.

He lifts the nasty-smelling jar. "You tricked her," he says, through grit teeth.

"It's not a trick. You're holding the cure to your niece's clan in your hand. If the wolves take that elixir, come the next full moon, the curse is no more. They're free."

"You condemned these people to decades of agony and now you just break the curse without so much as a whimper. Why?"

"Because Caroline promised them she would find a way to help them break the curse," she grins, pushing away from the tree. "And it's the best thing I could do for her in such crucial times. And the worst possible thing I could do to you _and_ to your brother."

"What are you saying?"

"That no matter what happens now, you've lost her. If you destroy this jar, kill me, and she finds out they had the cure within their reach and you took it from them, she'll hate you. If you don't..."

"How deluded you've become, Celeste, to think Caroline would prefer the wolves to our family. _We_ are her family."

"Your family offers nothing but pain and heartbreak for her, while the Crescents have done nothing but keep her safe. Her child is royalty to them. A half-witch, half-werewolf wonderkid? She's going to change everything for them. Break the curse. Bring the packs back together. Empower them. They'll be eternally grateful to Caroline. So... When push comes to shove, and believe me, it will, who do you think she'll choose?"

Elijah's stomach curls in on itself, a swell of anger biting at his gut. Pitting Rebekah against Niklaus and forcing him to take sides, thus shaking the already frail bond between himself and his brother, wasn't enough. Celeste wants to _destroy_ every spark of happiness his family could ever achieve, and that involves Caroline. She won't be satisfied until she's taken her away from them.

It's an ingenious plan, Elijah has to say. And as much as he'd like to believe that Caroline would never abandon them in favor of the werewolves, a little voice in his head tells him the matter may not be quite so straightforward. She's taken an immense liking to them, and her concern for that man who was trapped in the house with her is evidence. They were the only ones inside while the party took place on the back yard. Elijah can only wonder what they'd been debating. Niklaus' temper is a risk in itself at the best of times, and after what happened with Rebekah... Celeste may not be that far away from her perfect revenge, after all.

"What's your endgame, Celeste?"

She laughs, an awful, vicious sound. So distant from the woman he fell so deeply in love with all those years ago...

"This game has no end, Elijah," she boasts. "We're both immortal now, you know."

"Then what's the point if you can't possibly win?"

"But I have. You lost the girl. The girl you never made a move on because you were so desperate to save your family. And now your family lies in ruins."

"My family, despite all that you have done, will heal in time. We always have. You regard yourself far too highly, Celeste, if you think you're the worst that's happened to us.”

She shrugs unimpressed. "Maybe. And maybe if you had the time, you could heal. But do you really think Rebekah ran far and fast from here?"

"She's long gone."

"Is she? She's with Marcel. And Marcel loves Davina. Davina is dead, but she could come back, under the right circumstances."

"You wouldn't dare," he snarls.

"If you hadn't been so consumed by your thoughts of Caroline, you might have figured it out sooner. But you know who did have the time to think about it?" Sabine's face cracks into a sly, victorious smile, and Elijah's guts go cold. "Your brother."

 

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Caroline is _way_ too tired for this.

Once the adrenaline wore off, she realized just how exhausted she truly was. Her body is begging for rest, but if she takes her eyes off Klaus for a single second, he disappears. She feels like an octogenarian watching over a hyperactive toddler. As soon as he felt strong enough to start prancing around, he easily lost her. Turns out even a hybrid at a 10th of his strength is still too much for a nearly seven months pregnant woman running on serious sleep deprivation.

She finds him in the living room, pouring himself a drink.

"I'm not sure that helps," she says.

"I'm not sure it doesn't," he replies with a snap.

Caroline sighs. The stronger Klaus feels, the sourer his mood becomes. She almost wishes he'd feel a little bit weaker, just so he'd be tamer.

"Fine," she shrugs. "You have barely any blood in your system, go ahead and poison yourself with alcohol, why don't you? I'm sure Elijah would be delighted you're getting yourself drunk."

" _Do not speak to me of Elijah!_ " he growls viciously, whirling around to her with his face scrunched up in anger.

The suddenness of it finds her cold, leaves her momentarily taken aback. But then she sets her face to determination, planting her fists on her hips. "He loves you."

Klaus' lips curl. "Yes," he concedes. "Except when he loves... others... more."

"He loves you and Rebekah _equally_."

"It's not Rebekah I'm talking about."

Caroline narrows her eyes at him, but before she can inquire him further, his phone dings.

A triumphant, cruel smile spreads on his lips. "My dear sister, so predictable. She could've been miles away from here by now. Well, she and her lover have chosen their fate."

"Klaus, what are you—"

"I'm sorry, love, but conversation time ended here." Caroline gasps when he shoves a marble statue to the ground. But it wasn't marble, because it shatters into tiny little pieces. Klaus crouches down and retrieves a stake. A stake Caroline's seen before.

The white oak stake Esther forged for Alaric.

How the _hell_ did that end up with him?

Her eyes go wide, her heart skipping a beat in shock. "Is that...?"

"I saved this one," he says, his eyes gleaming with pride. "It's special. Cannot be destroyed."

It was bad enough when she thought Klaus was going to dagger Rebekah for centuries, or stab her with Papa Tunde's blade and leave her agonizing for years. But he really wants her dead. And more importantly... He has the means to do it.

He chugs back the rest of his drink, puts the stake safely inside his jacket and blurs out of the room before Caroline has any chance of stopping him.

She curses under her breath and rushes outside. If Klaus really is determined to run, she'll never catch him, but she has a feeling he'll stop for a bite. He barely had any blood from the stash, just one bag, which, in his condition, is practically nothing. As the effects of the dark magic wear off, he'll get stronger, but warm blood will help him get there faster.

As predicted, she finds him in an alley right by the house, his face buried in the neck of a writhing man.

"Klaus!" Caroline chides, striding across the alley. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?!"

He lets the man drop to the ground and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. "If you have to ask then you haven't been paying attention." Caroline glares at him and kneels down to check the man's pulse. He's very weak, but not dead.

"Help the pregnant woman up, you psycho," she grumbles. He offers her a hand and easily pulls her to her feet. Caroline feels a bit of a twinge on her side, grinding her teeth against the pain.

"I need some sustenance before I kill my treacherous sister," he explains easily, as though there's absolutely nothing absurd in his logic.

 _All right_ , Caroline thinks. _Time for a new strategy_. If reminding him of why murdering a relative is intrinsically wrong, then she'll make this personal.

"You killed Elena's aunt," she starts with fire in her eyes. "Jenna was her legal guardian because the rest of her family was all gone. She was an _orphan_ and you _murdered_ her aunt, who, by the way, was a _really_ nice person who couldn't hurt a fly."

Klaus grunts impatiently, turning his back on her. "I don't have time for a walk down memory lane, Caroline."

"You ruined Elena's life when you took Stefan away!" she continues, keeping up with his pace. "You forced him to turn off his emotions and leave a trail of dead bodies all over the country for your entertainment and he lost the one good thing in his life, to the _asshole_ he calls a brother. _Because of you_." Klaus whips around to face her, lips compressed into an angry line. "You had Tyler attack me. And then you killed his mother. He had no one else in the world. You have destroyed the lives of people I care about. And yet I found it in myself to forgive you. I have wanted to kill you _so_ many times, Klaus, but I didn't, even when I had the chance. Because I saw _good_ in you and I knew I'd be filled with regret if I did it. And you will too if you hurt your sister — _your sister, Klaus_! You might think she deserves to die for what she's done to you, and you might think that you won't care, but you will not survive the guilt if you take her life."

"I'll tell you what I almost didn't survive. My sister bringing the vilest creature to ever walk the earth down upon me."

"And now you want to do to her and Marcel the exact same thing your father did to you. _Terrorize_ them. Chase them to the ends of the earth, make their lives hell for all eternity. Can’t you see? You're turning yourself into the thing you hate the most."

Klaus' face twists with chagrin. "I've been called every shade of monster, but that's new. My father?" There's a stiffening across his face as he regards her thoughtfully. As though making a decision, he grabs her arm. "Come with me," he grumbles as he starts pulling her along.

He storms through the streets of New Orleans, and the whole time her heart pounds at the thought of where he might be leading her. They stop when they reach an intersection on Bourbon street and Klaus points towards the huge hotel building on the corner. She knows exactly what that place is, having become acquainted with it while she read about the history of the city. The old Opera House.

"In 1919, the city burned down at this exact spot," he starts, his voice drenched in bitterness. "That was my father at his worst. You've had but a glimpse of what he was capable of. He followed us here, to the Opera, and made his own... Adaptations to the spectacle. When the curtains went up, there were bodies on the stage. Marcel's. Lana, a werewolf girl I had... Befriended. She was the Crescent alpha at the time. Others of our most trusted allies. Anyone who dared to call themselves a friend ended up there, strung around the neck, stabbed, _murdered_. And Mikael compelled the audience to watch it all and applaud as though it were the drollest of comedies. I tried to save Marcel instead of running, but my father had other ideas. He attempted to kill _me_ first, but Rebekah intervened. All those years, I believed she'd been trying to save me. But I wasn't the one she sought to rescue. Father attacked her and myself, and then he went back to Marcel. That's when my big brother swooped in. Just when we thought all was lost. So I ran like the beaten dog my father believed me to be, but we had to split. Elijah stood behind to slow him down and went separate ways to try and divert his attention. It was _decades_ until we saw each other again. As we three fled for our lives, he burned it all to the ground. Everyone who was inside, hundreds of people, the _innocents_ who wouldn't hurt a fly you so valiantly champion for, died. And, we assumed, with them, Marcel. I lived. But all that we had built died, as did the last shred of me that felt human." Klaus peers directly into her eyes, and Caroline's certain she sees a flash of hurt there before he masks it. "You've wondered why I'm such a monster? Capable of the most horrific acts? Why I feel no remorse? Now you know. That's what my father took from me that night. And it was all Rebekah's doing."

"Klaus," she says gently, her mouth feeling awfully dry. "He's gone. You killed him. You can't let his ghost haunt you forever."

"I won't terrorize my sister and her lover for centuries as my father did to us. Nor will I humiliate and torment or dehumanize her, which is what he did to me. None of that. I will simply... And quickly... End them."

"If you do this, he wins. This will be your downfall, Klaus. From beyond the grave, he will have his revenge on you."

He's quiet for a moment. "Then he wins," he says, and flashes away.

 

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Elijah ambles through the cemetery, not really sure where to go, a sense of grief falling over him as the last rays of sun die on the horizon.

He didn't expect to be anguished over Celeste's passing after everything she did, the people she endangered, the possibly irreversible damage she single-handedly caused to his family. But, strangely enough, he is.

Two hundred years of acrimony corrupted the woman he once loved, twisted her into a shadow of her old self. Bitter. Irate. Rancorous. His Celeste was never like this. She was spirited, passionate, but not cruel. All the light she had died when her original body went into the earth. Then darkness took over.

In a way, he can't help but feel guilty, as he did two hundred years ago. It was Niklaus' lack of restraint that caused witches to be persecuted left and right across New Orleans, and it was his arrogance in believing she would be untouchable because of his reputation that made her get murdered. She warned him about it. About Niklaus and about the growing concern in the witch community. Elijah did nothing. He was way too happy to allow Niklaus to soil his life with his depressing posture. He was wrong, of course. The past is never really gone for the likes of him.

Sabine promised the witches she wasn't going to jump bodies again, that she was committed to their cause. It was how she rallied the entire coven to join her side. Elijah alerted Monique Deveraux against her true intentions, stroke a deal with the girl that would only ever work if his suspicions that Celeste intended to find another witch to inhabit as soon as she achieved her revenge was confirmed. She never had the best interests of the coven at heart; all she wanted was power. Elijah took her to the cemetery, then. To where her people are stronger. And she proved him right. Celeste found herself a shard of glass and gleefully stuck it into Sabine’s neck. Her final threat — that she'd jump into Caroline — would've thinned Elijah's blood if he hadn’t been prepared for it.

The second Sabine's body dropped lifeless to the ground, another body rose, deep in the Lafayette Cemetery. But not the body Celeste had intended. Monique's spell trapped her right back inside her original vessel. If Elijah says he didn't feel a wave of nostalgia seeing her and listening to that soft French accent again after such a long time, he'll be lying. Killing her took away a small portion of his soul. But it had to be done.

Celeste Dubois truly is gone now. But she didn't leave without a final gift. A lunar spell that binds Mikaelsons to the limits of the cemetery until the next moon rises. Anyone can get in, but members of the Original family cannot get out. And she did that with the certainty that at least one other sibling would be heading there soon.

As much as Elijah hoped she was wrong, he's not surprised when Rebekah shows up.

"Elijah," his sister says.

He sighs. "What are you doing here, Rebekah? You should be on the other side of the world by now."

"Marcel came back for Davina," she explains, _exactly_ as Celeste said they'd do. Now that she is dead, the little witch might even come back to life. "And we both know it would never be far enough."

He opens his mouth to chastise her for her foolishness, but his phone rings.

"Caroline," he says into the phone.

"He's on the loose, Elijah," she says with exasperation. "I tried to stall him as much as I could, but he was having none of it. He ditched me right outside the old Opera House. I don't know where he went. Where are you?"

"Lafayette Cemetery."

"What are you doing there?"

"Celeste is dead."

Caroline is quiet for a moment. "Has she jumped into another body?"

"No. This time, she's gone for good."

"Oh," she says, almost apologetically. "Klaus got word that Rebekah's still in town. We need to find her—"

"I already did."

"Where is she?"

"With me."

"What? No, Elijah. She needs to go, _now_. He has the white oak stake."

He exchanges a look with his sister, a million things passing between them. Elijah feels a tendril of fear unfurling inside.

"Elijah?"

"Yes, I heard," he stops, swallowing down. "Before she died, Celeste cast a spell that trapped us in the cemetery."

" _What_? You can't get out?"

"Not until the next moon rises."

Caroline curses on the other side of the line.

"I'm heading there. I'll see if I can undo the spell," she speaks after a moment.

"That would be good."

"Just... Hide. Elijah, if he finds the two of you -"

"I know. Thank you."

He hangs up, looks at his phone for a heartbeat too long. "You have to find a place to—"

" _Get away from her_!"

Niklaus' ferocious growl sends a violent quake through him. And by the look on Rebekah's eyes, she feels the same. Their brother's eyes flash golden, wild with rage, as his fingers closed around the white oak stake in a tight grip.

"She's mine, Elijah," he hisses, a low rumble that sounds like a thunder.

The veins around Elijah's eyes pop, his gums itching as his fangs show.

Too late for contingency plans, then. They have no choice but to take down Niklaus.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get explosive from here on! :) I made a few choices here regarding which scenes from the episodes to use, considering also what's going to happen on the next chapter, as I didn't want it to feel too repetitive, and I hope you guys enjoy the final product. I'm really looking forward to seeing your thoughts about this little Frankenstein chapter and especially the KC bits. Drop me a comment and let me know how you feel! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	15. S01E15 Farewell to Storyville

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **[ANGST WARNING]** Remember how I warned you guys that angst was coming? It's here. Since I know some of you have a harder time reading stuff that is more on the angsty side, please proceed with caution! This isn't like the saddest thing ever, but just so you know. In my defense, this is a very angsty episode in canon, so not everything here is my fault. *coughs*
> 
> As always, big shout out to the amazing [coveredinthecolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/pseuds/coveredinthecolors) for her awesome beta services and for being so very patient. She really helps make this a much better story! Also, **THANK YOU** to everyone who has been reading this story and interacting with me, either on AO3 or FF.net or on tumblr. You guys are awesome and your support truly, truly makes my day! 
> 
> So, if you do enjoy this story and you'd like me to keep going after what you read here, let me know! I'm very excited but also very nervous about this chapter because it is my favorite. I put everything I had here, so I really hope you guys enjoy it. :)

* * *

Once upon a time, a man who was cursed to roam the earth for all eternity was allowed to dream some dreams of a happy life.

He had a family he loved. Trusted friends he cherished. He built a city all to himself, and then he became king. Everything was as it had never been before. For the first time in a thousand years, misery and pain were but a distant memory. The constant riot in his mind quieted down; the dark clouds, always looming not far above, following his every step, dissipated. The monster roaring inside of him, trying to claw its way out, fell asleep. And when he looked at his life, and all that he'd achieved, he thought he finally had it all: everything he ever wanted and more. It felt like happiness.

And then, in the blink of an eye, it was all gone in a mist of ash and blood.

He saw as his friends were murdered right before his eyes. He was forced to flee the city he built as it was burned to the ground. He abandoned his home, his possessions, every dream he'd ever had. He even lost his family, and never really got them back. Not as it was before.

The beast roared back to life, angrier and unrulier than ever, tearing him apart from the inside out. The immortal man's heart shrunk into a cold rock. Nothing mattered anymore — except revenge. Where happiness had existed, now there was only hatred. Anguish. Sorrow. Shame.

He blamed himself and his arrogance, his foolishness. It wasn't just his life that was ruined. It was his family's too. And he carried that weight deep in his chest for decades. It gnawed at him, a constant reminder of the dangers of giving in to intangible nonsense such as love and happiness. It made the immortal man too comfortable, too trusting. He grew soft and weak. And it cost him everything.

Now, after a hundred years carrying all that, he learns that it wasn't his fault, after all.

The one he loves above everyone else, his favorite sibling, whom he had sworn to protect until his last breath, invited his worst nightmare into their city to end him forever.

Klaus has been betrayed far too many times by people he cares about, people he trusts. His siblings. His parents. His lovers and friends. Even the mother of his child. But no one has ever hurt him as deeply and cruelly as Rebekah.

"Walk away, Rebekah," Elijah says, stepping in front of her.

"Don't move!" he snarls.

"Leave us now," Elijah insists.

"I can't," she says. "I'm stuck in this cemetery, same as you."

He takes the stake from inside his jacket and Papa Tunde's blade from his pocket. Rebekah's eyes flash with fear.

"Elijah, he has the white oak stake," she quivers.

"I brought it to you, sister," Klaus prowls towards her.

"Get out of his sight," Elijah grits out, his sharp eyes never leaving Klaus. "Your presence here only serves to anger him. Leave him to me, _now_."

Rebekah blurs away and Klaus' lips curl in anger. Elijah steps in his way again, opening his arms in what he certainly thinks is a peaceful sign. To Klaus, it’s a declaration of war.

"I'm asking you brother to brother. Let's end this nonsense now."

A muscle twitches on Klaus' jaw. "You would side with that traitor?"

"I am not choosing sides, but I will not allow you to hurt our sister."

"We cannot leave this cemetery, Elijah. How long do you think you can defend her?"

"As long as it takes," his brother says, his eyes narrowing to near slits. "By whatever means necessary."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"I've never seen him like this before, Marcel," Rebekah tells her lover over the phone.

She told him to run, the idiot, but he refused to leave the city. They went back to the cemetery to rescue the remains of Davina, in hopes that she would be returned to life as soon as they eliminated the resurrected witches. With the help of Thierry, they got Damiana and Genevieve cornered in a room, but Rebekah's former ally managed to slip away. Damiana wasn't so lucky, and Marcel was hardly merciful.

Still, her death wasn't enough to bring back Davina. Some other Harvest girl must've risen from her tomb, but not the one they wanted.

Rebekah told Marcel to take the girl's body and get as far away from New Orleans as possible, forget about her. In the state Nik is... She doesn't think she'll leave this cemetery alive. Not even Elijah will save her. Hell, he might kill them both. He's not just angry, he's... beyond himself. Rebekah can't honestly remember the last time she saw him so consumed by rage. He'll never let her walk out, and if Elijah tries to stop him, he'll die too.

She won't allow it. If Nik's going to take his revenge, it'll be on her. Elijah shouldn't have to pay for her past mistakes.

As much as she feels her anger at the time was justified; as cruel, manipulative and ruthless as her brother ever was to her, she didn't want him dead. Yes, she colluded with the enemy against him one or two times. Even in Mystic Falls. But dead? No. She would never let Nik die. She loves him, even when she hates him — and she hates him a lot of the time.

As soon as Genevieve sent the message to their father, Rebekah regretted doing it. She wasn't thinking straight, so foolish in love that she was... Nik threatened to have her daggered again, and she had only just been returned to life, after spending 52 years in a box, condemned for the crime of falling in love. Klaus murdered every single man who ever dared to approach her. No one was ever good enough for his little sister. _I'm protecting you_ , he’d say. But who would protect her _from him_? He never allowed her the freedom to make her own choices, her own mistakes, same as him. One of the most powerful creatures on earth, and Rebekah felt trapped. A hostage to her own family. To that stupid vow she never should've taken. _Always and Forever_. To Nik, that meant always with him, forever doing his bidding and obeying his orders.

As much as he wanted to, however, he couldn't hurt Marcel. Punishing Marcel meant killing him permanently, and Klaus loved him too much to do it. Instead, he turned on Rebekah. And how easy it was for him... He had a scornful little smile on his face the day he brought her back, like seeing her horrified expression was his idea of _fun_. "Fifty years," he said. Like it was nothing. To a normal person, that's a whole life. Rebekah didn't see the world change. Didn't see the city grow. Everyone she knew was gone.

She just wanted to be free.

Rebekah never needed Nik to punish her for her terrible mistake. Life did it all on its own. How naive of her to think that Mikael would simply chase after Klaus... It escaped her mind that he was called _the destroyer_ for a reason. It had been so long since their father had crossed their paths that Rebekah allowed herself to get cocky. How wrong she was... He burned down the city. Forced them to go on their separate ways, start over elsewhere, always on the run. Killed everyone who ever meant anything to them — or so they’d thought, anyway. And Nik... He was never the same. As bad as he'd been in New Orleans, he became _worse_. There was no limit to his wickedness. He lost every bit of humanity left in him. And then he daggered her again, for decades and decades. After everything, Rebekah ended up exactly where she started.

If only there was a way to take it back...

But Rebekah won't ask for forgiveness, not when her brother refuses to admit his own mistakes. He never once apologized for daggering her, for ruining her life, killing the people she loved. She has spent _months_ in New Orleans now, protecting Caroline and their unborn child. Has he ever thanked her for it? To Klaus, protecting his interests is their duty. He expects his family to always be there whenever he needs them, whenever he comes calling, but he never feels obliged to reciprocate the feeling. Never has, probably never will. Elijah is delusional in thinking there's hope for him yet, that this child will somehow turn their brother on his head, give him a fresh start. Nik hurt everyone who loves him; destroys everything he touches. It's only a matter of time until he does it to Caroline, and then to his own child.

"Do whatever it takes, just stay alive," Marcel says. "We'll get you out."

She shakes her head, spying from the tiny door of a mausoleum as Klaus and Elijah spar. They've been at it all night. Every time Klaus flashes away, trying to find her, Elijah is right after. "He's out of his mind with rage, up all night howling one obscenity-laced tirade after the next. And he won't stop until he kills me."

"Stay as far away from him as you can."

"That's a brilliant strategy, but given that dead bitch Celeste has trapped us in here until moonrise, my options are somewhat limited."

"I'm not leaving you in there. Davina will find a loophole, get you out early."

"Davina?" Rebekah asks. "She's back?"

"Yeah," she can hear the smile on Marcel's voice. "I'm guessing Celeste was the one stealing her place. Soon after Elijah killed her, Davina awakened."

"Oh. Well, at least one good news. You should take her and leave this godforsaken place forever."

"We will _all_ go together. If Klaus comes after us, we will take him on one hell of a ride."

She sighs, feeling weariness seeping into her bones. "I spent a century looking over my shoulder, ready to run at a moment's notice. Am I to go back to that?"

"Worry about that later. Right now, just buy me as much time as you can. Davina's still a little shaken. I promise I'll get you out."

"Yeah," she says, with a lot less confidence than she would've liked. "Ok."

She ends the call, sharpening her hearing for the conversation between her siblings outside.

"You've been at this for hours," Elijah says, sounding every bit as tired as Rebekah feels. "To what end? Niklaus, I know you, and I grew up fighting you. I can't be beaten nor can I be persuaded. You cannot get past me."

"I could get past you, although it might have to be over your dead body. You did stab me with that blade, forcing me to endure hours of unspeakable pain," he bites out, his voice laced with bitterness. "Perhaps I should direct my rage towards you. You are, after all, every bit the traitor Rebekah is."

"Niklaus, I am merely trying to stop a tragedy here. In time, you will understand that."

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, Elijah."

"I have no idea what -"

" _Stop it_!" he hisses out ferociously. "Stop the façade, brother! You came to New Orleans under the false pretense of being _curious_ about what the witches were cooking up for me. Katerina wrote that letter hoping that it would remove me from your path, so the two of you could finally live that beautiful romance you so longed for 500 years ago. But you never even considered going back to her. You stayed."

"For you. For your family."

"Not for me! You stayed for Caroline. Admit it."

"Brother, I've done nothing but try to keep the mother of your child safe."

"Yes. Because you _fell in love with her_." The thrum of anger in Nik's voice travels all the way to Rebekah. She can imagine his eyes, flashing golden like blazing fire. She knew this moment would come, when Elijah would be forced to confront his feelings for Caroline. And she also knew it would be the end of their pretense familial bond. "You knew how I felt about her. But that never mattered to you."

"Niklaus... I would never stay in the way of your happiness with Caroline."

"You don't think I know? You don't think I see what happens _right under my roof?!_ You _liked_ putting that blade inside of me, didn't you? It gave you the chance to envision your perfect world. One where I'm not an obstacle anymore. Where my daughter can grow up to call _you father_!"

"Do you even hear yourself? You sound completely deranged. Paranoid. You're imagining things, Niklaus, imagining enemies you don't have. You should see yourself. The murderous expression, the self-righteous posturing. You look like father."

Rebekah's eyes widen in shock. What the hell is Elijah doing? Doesn't he know that's the absolute worst thing anyone could ever accuse Niklaus of? If he wants to make him calm down, he's doing it all wrong.

"I'm not him," Klaus says, his voice broken now. "Rebekah's betrayal justifies my anger. His was that of a madman. You were never the recipient of his cruelty! None of you were! Not Kol, not Finn, _none of you_!"

There's a long pause. Rebekah doesn't have to be there to understand. Even so many years later, even knowing he's gone, their father still harms Klaus more than any weapon ever could. His treatment of Niklaus was bestial, even when he was a little child. Ever since Rebekah was old enough to remember, he was getting humiliated and abused — sometimes, to an inch of his life. And if anyone tried to intervene, they'd get on their father's bad side as well. Nik is right about that, at least. Mikael was brutal to all his children, but to none more so than him. He was taught hatred, pain, scorn and abandonment since a very young age. It's no wonder he grew up to be the worst of them all. The terrible things nestled inside of him that got amplified by vampirism… No one should ever have to endure what he did.

But no one should have to endure the kind of pain Niklaus now inflicts upon others either.

"Niklaus, I understand your anger," Elijah speaks quietly. "But I implore you, be better than him. Do what he could not. Demonstrate the grace of mercy rather than this petty cruelty."

"You ask me to show mercy to one who has wronged me as much as Rebekah. You really don't know me at all, do you, brother?"

"Enough," Rebekah says as she cuts into her brothers' quarrel. They've been at it all night and accomplished nothing. All Elijah's done is enrage Klaus further. If they keep this going, Nik will kill them both.

"Whatever I have done wrong, my guilt is nothing compared to yours," she tells Klaus. "You want revenge? Fine. But before you have it I will look you in the eye and tell you why it was your cruelty and your spite that led us to this."

"Go on, then," he says. The look of disgust on his face is even worse than what Rebekah imagined. "Speak your peace, and when you are finished, I will grant you the punishment you deserve, even if I have to go through Elijah to do so."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"Let it begin! The trial of Rebekah Mikaelson."

Elijah lets out a pitiful sigh. The theatrics... Niklaus went up on a tomb, looking down at the two of them as though he's an all-mighty god they're supposed to be worshipping. Even at the height of his anger, he can't help his flair for drama.

"What a relief. His ego is in check," Rebekah mutters, as unimpressed as Elijah.

"Just speak your truth, Rebekah. I'll make certain he behaves himself."

"You stand accused of betraying your own blood," Klaus declares. "How do you plead?"

"I plead you to shut up and listen."

"You summoned our father! You brought him to our home! What possible defense could you have?"

"I knew he was the only thing that you feared and I wanted you to run," Rebekah says, her voice steady and assured, but Elijah can hear the inflection of hurt in it.

"Because you hated me."

"Because you were hateful! You denied me the freedom to love."

"Oh, so that's your defense?" he sneers. "You called Mikael, the destroyer, the hunter of vampires, because I detained you from pursuing some dull suitors."

"You were cruel! And controlling and manipulative."

"I was trying to protect you!" he growls. "From imbeciles and leeches, not to mention your own poor judgment."

"You think you're the only one who knows anything. The only truth is your truth. We never question the people you bring into your life, so why should you question ours?"

"Because I'm not a sick fool, Rebekah! I don't give in to the first sycophant who offers me flowers and calls me pretty!"

"You got yourself a child, Nik!" Rebekah practically screams. "You want to compare? Nothing I've ever done has ever been as drastic as that. And yet I never tried to have Caroline murdered and you locked up for your carelessness. I cared for her as though she were my family, which is more grace you've ever shown to anyone I've ever had a relationship with." Elijah turns his eyes to his brother. He's white to the throat and unsteady with fury. "And that includes the one you loved enough to call your best friend. Why did you forbid me to love Marcel?"

"Do not mention his name," Klaus hisses, standing to his feet and pointing a menacing finger to Rebekah.

"What has happened to you?" she asks, an undercurrent of sadness in his sister's voice. "I remember the sweet boy who made me laugh and gave me gifts. Who loved art and music. I wanted to be just like you. How could you have fallen so far?"

Elijah takes a step forward. "You say you despise Rebekah for her betrayal and yet no one has stood by your side for so long, not even myself. Perhaps it's you that's forgotten. Do you remember the day that father caught you whittling little chess pieces with his hunting knife? He whipped you so mercilessly and for so long I actually feared for your life." Elijah pauses, swallowing down as the memories trickle in. Their father always seemed like he was just waiting for an opportunity to end Niklaus and on that day... He would have. "I tried to stop him; he shoved me away and continued to beat you. And then Rebekah stepped in, with a sword in hand, ready to slay him. She was so scared, just as we all were. But she stood up to him for you. And he stopped. She saved your life at the risk of father turning on her as well."

Something like hurt flickers through Klaus' eyes, overbright with emotion. "So you would paint her as a loyal sister," he says. "But she betrayed me out of lust for Marcel. Perhaps that was why you did it, for love," he turns back to Rebekah. "Perhaps I might temper my rage if Rebekah will admit she was a victim of her own idiocy, that her great love Marcel used her to oust this family and take my city!" His voice escalating until he's shouting from behind grit teeth, his anger flaring hot once more.

"Marcel did not manipulate me," Rebekah says, calmly. Elijah scrubs a hand across his face. She won't make anything easier for anyone by standing up to Niklaus right now.

"You defend him and yet you can't help but wonder, what if I'm right?" he smirks.

Rebekah's face scrunches up. "We loved each other. It was your refusal to respect that that led to your ruin."

"Then why didn't he chase after you when you fled New Orleans? Oh yes! That's right. He was here, _stealing_ what I built."

"You want me to renounce Marcel? To beg for your forgiveness?" Her voice quivers as her eyes fill with tears. "I won't! Marcel is not at fault. _I_ called Mikael."

"Rebekah, you must-" Elijah says, trying to cut her off.

"I was the one brought him to New Orleans because of your wickedness!" she continues, words tumbling out of her mouth like grenades. "I wanted love and happiness and you denied me the freedom to have either! Yes, I hated and I was afraid of our father, but he was a lesser evil than you, my bastard brother who loomed over me, threatening me as you are now! I wanted rid of you! And given a choice... I'd do it again."

_Oh, Rebekah..._

Before Elijah has enough time to question her obvious insanity, Klaus is leaping towards her, teeth bared and stake in hand. He pushes her against a tomb and raises his arm, ready to stab her in the heart with the white oak. All Elijah can do is launch himself against him with all his might, knocking him off his feet. The two of them roll down on the ground and, when Elijah stands up, he has both the stake and the blade in his possession.

He lets out a relieved sigh while Niklaus glares, taken with the fury that certainly burns inside of him. For once, Elijah can't really blame him. Rebekah was completely irrational. He can understand the need to hurt Niklaus' unshakable belief in his own self-righteousness, but she overstepped. She provoked his ire in a moment when he's a snap away from exploding. It's almost like she has a death wish.

But even if he'd berate her for her vile words, Elijah would still not let Niklaus get his revenge. Not against his baby sister.

"Sister, leave us," he tells her, eyes fixed on Klaus.

"I won't go."

"I said," he repeats, raising his voice with clear authority. "Leave us, please."

This time, she heeds his command and disappears from sight through the maze of tombs and mausoleums.

"You wouldn't listen to her," he tells his younger brother. "So now you must deal with me."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Celeste was an incredibly clever witch. You don't survive for as long as she did, jumping from body to body, without learning a few useful tricks. She was also, probably, very confident in her own skills. Much to her displeasure, though, Caroline is quite resourceful herself. She may not be as experienced or even as knowledgeable as Celeste, but she is especially motivated.

Undoing the boundary spell around the cemetery was not easy. Figuring out the mystery binding ingredient was tricky. Of course that old bitch — _sorry, Elijah_ — had to make it as hard as possible, knowing the Mikaelsons would have a pregnant witch there in a second to try and break it.

It took Caroline the better part of the night and the early hours of the morning, but she came up with something to unbalance the magic. It won't exactly break the spell, just lift it. All Caroline has to do is put the object she enchanted next to where Celeste cast her spell and the effect will be suspended in that area, around the main gate, allowing the three Mikaelsons to walk out — hopefully all still alive. When the moon rises, the spell will have run its course and end for good.

As soon as Caroline got off the phone with Elijah, she jumped in the car and went to the cemetery to understand what exactly Celeste did. Normally, binding spells use rock salt to limit the area of influence, but not in this case. Salt would've been way too easy. She tried the blood thing again, but it was useless. With the baby's blood inside of her, it was as though she were a Mikaelson trying to walk through the boundary lines herself, which means, if she’d gone in, she would’ve been unable to walk out, same as the siblings.

Good riddance to Celeste — _again, sorry, Elijah_ — but she was one smart witch, that snake.

While she went back to the Mikaelson library to check through some grimoires, she ended up blacking out with her head on the book. It wasn't so much _sleep_ as it was a shut down. Her brain just couldn't take it anymore. She was going on nearly 48 hours awake, and Caroline had restricted herself to one cup of strong black coffee because of the baby. All it did was give her another hour of poor energy.

As much as she wanted to keep going, her batteries were completely drained. She woke up with a jerk two hours later, the 200 years old grimoire in front of her wet with drool. She took a quick shower to wake herself up, another large glass of warm milk and went right back to work.

All through the night, while she was awake, Caroline called them. She tried everyone — Elijah, Rebekah, Klaus. No one was answering their phones. Her anxiety levels were through the roof. They should know better than to ignore a distressed pregnant woman. All she wanted was to know that the three of them were still alive and breathing; a text would have sufficed to calm her down. As justified as it is, it cannot be healthy at this stage of pregnancy for her nerves to be this jangled and all over the place. Her heart hasn't stopped racing for hours. Once this is all over, she's going to take some good days off drama, even if she has to leave New Orleans for that. It's decided.

When she gets to the cemetery, everything seems eerily calm, which does nothing to placate her jitters. She would rather be listening to Klaus' enraged screams right now than this gruesome silence.

Now, under the sunlight, she can clearly see the dark blood stain near the spot where the spell was cast. Must be where Sabine cut her own throat open with a shard of glass. She's more than glad that Celeste is gone, and she knows now that all that friendship and camaraderie she'd demonstrated in the beginning had been an act, a way to gain her trust and keep her close. But Caroline can't help but feel bad for the real Sabine, the woman whose body Celeste jumped into when her previous life ended. All the lives she destroyed jumping from host to host...

_Focus, Caroline._

She places the object carefully at the center of the circle, puts her hand out and whispers a few words. She feels energy coursing through her, the hairs on her arms standing to attention. She won't know if she got it right until she tries, though. If she gets in and her counter-spell failed, she won't be able to come out.

"Ok," she mutters, taking a deep breath. "It's gonna work."

She crosses the imaginary line surrounding the cemetery, then turns around, shuts her eyes and tries to put her foot forward. When she steps back on the outside, her face cracks with a wide smile. That was no simple spell she found a way around there. What would her father say if he could see her now?

But Caroline only allows herself a second of self-congratulatory bliss. She'll have all the time in the world to feel proud later, when this is all over and everyone is safe and preferably no longer feeling murderous and vindictive.

Immediately she starts moving, her body propelling her forward as though out of its own accord. There's a moment of despair when she realizes the sheer enormity of that cemetery. They could be anywhere. But then she remembers this is sacred territory for the witches. She isn't one of them, and her magic doesn't come from the ancestral bond the New Orleans' covens share with the witches who have been consecrated here, but there are invisible lines of magic running all through this place. She can use it to her favor.

Caroline shuts her eyes, sharpens all her senses and calls for the well of magic inside of her. It rumbles in her core, buzzing all through her body, and then she lets it out, like a boomerang. Her magic travels, pulling her along, until it finds a disturbance. It's very distant, but Caroline thinks she can hear... voices?

Her heart lurches in her chest as she rushes towards the sound.

"So what's it gonna be? You hold both weapons," she hears Klaus' voice. Hoarse and annoyed, but she'd recognize that arrogant English lilt even underwater. "Tunde's blade to put me down, but the stake could finish me off for good."

"Well, unlike you, brother, I have no taste for fratricide. I only hold this to keep it from you. The blade is just my insurance."

 _Elijah_.

So Elijah has managed to disarm him. _Good_ , she thinks. She trusts Elijah with destructive weapons a lot more than she'd trust a pissed off Klaus with a stick. He would never use it against one of his siblings. Well, not again, anyway. He did already stab Klaus with that blade once, and Caroline would very much still like to have a word with him about just how horrible the effects of that kind of dark magic circulating through someone’s body can be. Hopefully, however, it’ll be just one time and he won’t have to do it again.

But if it's just the two of them... Where's Rebekah?

"Why must you defend her?" Klaus asks. "Rebekah betrayed you as well when she brought Mikael here."

"And believe me, I am just as disappointed in her as you are. But I defend her because she is our sister and because I like to remember her the way she was before we became what we became."

"My memories serve to make her betrayal more painful."

"Can you not then accept some small part of the blame? After all, Niklaus, it was your cruelty that led her to do what she did."

"Do you not see, Elijah? She didn't mean to chase me off, she wanted me dead!"

Caroline grunts in annoyance as she tries to find them. Their voices are loud enough that she can hear them fine, but this goddamn place is a _maze_. She knows which direction she needs to go, it’s just hard to figure out the shortest way there.

"You're wrong, Niklaus."

"She has always hated me. You know that's true."

"You have no idea, do you? You have no idea what she was prepared to do for you. When our sister sees something she perceives as an injustice, she can be stubborn, impetuous and at times, downright dangerous. And that was never more apparent than when she tried to kill our father."

"What is this? Some melodramatic fiction designed to garner my sympathy?"

"It is the truth. I was there. She had a knife pointed towards his heart, and she would've done it, all to protect you, had I not stopped her. I often wish I could revisit that moment... Complete the task myself," Elijah says, his voice ridden with sorrow.

"Why are you telling me this now?" Klaus hisses.

"Niklaus, sometimes our sister acts without thinking. She's short of temper, she's quick to fall in love, but she loves _you_. Your malicious treatment has broken her heart. So, yes, she responded by summoning our father. Yes, that was a mistake. But I'm not entirely sure I can blame her."

"I can."

There's a loud _whooshing_ sound, just as she finally made it to the spot where they were, and then they’re both gone.

"Oh, for crying out loud," she mutters as she starts chasing them again, writing herself a mental note to make them both feel extremely guilty for grinding a heavily pregnant woman like this.

"Niklaus, so help me..." Elijah's voice is distant, but she can sort of make out what he's saying.

"Are you really going to stand against me?" Klaus nearly shouts now. "And not with that pathetic blade. You'd just have to pull it out someday, and then I'd hate you as I do her now. If you really want to protect Rebekah, you'll need to use the white oak stake."

Caroline curses under her breath. That is _so_ like Klaus to provoke people's ire by being petty and irrational.

"I don't have to listen to this nonsense."

"Don't pretend you haven't thought about it, Elijah! You look at me and you see everything you abhor about yourself. Sure, you dress it up with you fancy suits and your handkerchiefs," he's grunting now, his words drenched in scorn. "You, with your mask of civility and eloquence, you're every bit the abomination I am. Or worse. Go on, Elijah! Go on. Use the stake!"

_No, no, no..._

He _wants_ to be attacked, the idiot. He wants this fight to happen. Hours and hours trapped in this cemetery and he still hasn't come down from the height of his anger.

"I'm not so cowardly that I have to kill you, Niklaus, but if I have to make you suffer to protect Rebekah, that is what I'll do."

Caroline is running now. Every muscle in her body is screaming, but the dark panic at the pit of her stomach is rising.

"You see? I knew you couldn't do it. You still cling to that hope that I can be redeemed, and if the _bastard_ can be saved... Well, maybe there's hope for you."

Everything goes quiet, and then Elijah's screaming. A painful, guttural sound that sends a horrible shiver up Caroline's spine. She feels all the blood drain off her face, and then she turns a corner and finally spots them.

Klaus is above Elijah, whose eyes are wide in terror as he groans loudly, Tunde's blade slowly piercing through his chest.

"No!" Caroline screams. Klaus drops Elijah's body and turns to her, a surprised look on his face. Elijah convulses on the ground, his lips moving as though he's trying to speak, the veins on his forehead jumping. And then he goes still, his eyes unseeing. Caroline gapes, horrified at the scene. "What have you done?" she breathes.

Klaus grinds his teeth. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I came to stop a tragedy, but I see I'm too late." She glares at him, and then crouches down next to Elijah. "Oh, God..." she mutters, her hand hovering above the spot where the blade went in. The dark magic makes her skin prickle. Thinking quickly, she decides the best way to end this is to just remove the blade. The less time it spends inside of him, draining all of his life force, the less damage it'll do. "Ok," she says, more to herself than anyone else. "All right."

Taking a steadying breath, she undoes a few buttons on Elijah's shirt, just enough to see the wound, not completely closed yet. Caroline scrunches her eyes shut, hoping to every god out there that her werewolf strength is enough for her to do this. "I'm sorry," she mutters before garnering all her strength and sticking her hand through the cut left by the blade. It goes right in, _deep_ , and Elijah's back arches as he lets out a strangled sound. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Caroline moves her fingers around, trying not to think about what she's touching, until she feels something that is definitely not like anything that should be inside a human body. Her hands close around the blade’s handle and pull it out with a disgusted grunt. Elijah screams and then falls back down, blinking slowly.

It's gonna take a while for the wound to close, but luckily he won't have lost too much energy and will heal faster than Klaus did.

With some effort, and having to lean on Elijah's body with her bloodied hand, still holding the blade, Caroline manages to pull herself up. Her wobbly knees almost give out, and she has to fight to ignore the dizziness and nausea.

"I should've known you would come to aid your prince in shiny suit," Klaus says, words spat out coated in something vile. His voice is even, but Caroline can hear all the sharp edges of his disdain, his seething rage so strong the air around him wavers. "You didn't try to pull the blade out of me when he stuck it in my chest, did you?"

She's momentarily thrown by the look in his eyes, his face twisted into an awful grimace.

"I didn't know what it was. I had no idea it was even inside of you until Elijah pulled it out," she retorts, defensively. "I would've done the same thing for you."

"I'm not so certain. You're siding up with him against me. Go on, then," he says, motioning towards Elijah. "Save your lover."

His words hit Caroline like a blow. It leaves her cold in shock, but then the heat of it — and the pain — hits full force, her eyes widening with a mixture of ire and righteous indignation. Before she knows what she's doing, her hand is flying to his face. She slaps him so hard he nearly tumbles, probably not expecting that much strength. His cheek becomes a bright red, and he takes a hand to the corner of his mouth, eyes flashing to her.

She can't believe he just said that.

"I saw you," he hisses. "The night of the Harvest. I saw you and Elijah having a lovely moment together. Quite touching. He was quick to offer you comfort, was he not? Tell me, Caroline. I've always wondered. Are his kisses better than mine?"

Caroline's eyes narrow in disbelief. "Is that what all that crazy behavior has been about? Why you've been acting like an _idiot_ since that night? You think Elijah and I...?" She falters, words melting away on her tongue. "You don't even know what you saw. I never kissed Elijah."

"He certainly kissed you."

 _"We never kissed!_ " she yells in his face.

“Well, that’s fascinating. I expected you to deny it, but to say I’m making things up-”

“We never kissed because I stopped him. I _stopped_ him before he did something even he would regret. Because of _you_ , Klaus!"

He snorts disdainfully. "Well, don't mind me, love. I would hate to get in the way of your love story."

Caroline shakes her head helplessly, totally incredulous. She's been hurt, betrayed, attacked, endured hours of terrible pain and psychological torture. But this... After everything she's been through — and not just in the past couple of days, which would be more than enough to warrant at least a tiny bit of consideration from him, but since the day she was brought to his city...

She knows he's lashing out on purpose, but his words _hurt_. Badly. And she's been through enough hell to have to receive this kind of vicious treatment from the father of her child.

It's hard to tell which of the awful set of emotions striking her all at once gets to her the most. The anger, turning her blood into lava; the indignation at the absurdity of his accusations; the disappointment; or the heartbreak.

"I came here to save _you_ ," she starts, her voice quivering as her throat starts to feel tight. "From _yourself_. It's all I've ever tried to do since I was brought to this godforsaken city. I'm trying to keep you from making the worst mistake of your _miserable_ life. This will destroy you, Klaus. It already is! Look at you. You're... _awful_. _Mean_. Not even you can live through murdering your own family." She shakes her head, swallowing back the tears that are threatening to come. "Every time I see a light in you, every time I think there's hope, that you want to do better, you just... Have to prove me wrong. If Elijah is a fool for believing in your redemption, then what am I?"

"They've betrayed me," he seethes. "She summoned the devil to murder me and he stuck that blade in my chest for her, leaving me to agonize through hour of miserably pain! _I deserve my revenge_!"

"Revenge! That's all there ever is to you! It's what moves you! The strongest thing you're ever capable of feeling is this wretched desire for revenge! The day you don't have something to hate is the day you won't even pull yourself out of bed in the morning. You accuse them of betraying you, but what was that when you daggered Elijah and gave him as a gift to your enemy? Or when you stole centuries of your sister's life by putting her in a box at your convenience? Who betrays who in this family depends on the day, Klaus. You _live_ to hurt one another. And now you're destroying everything you had left for something that happened a hundred years ago, for someone who's _dead_! Don't you see?! This is _exactly_ what the witches wanted and you're walking right into their trap. They planned _all_ of this! They counted on you behaving like a lunatic! The very same witches who have tried to kill _your daughter_!" Caroline stops as her voice threatens to give out, her eyes burning with hot tears. "I was taken from my town, from my mother and my friends, with the false promise that I would have a home here. Protection. Affection. _A family_. So far, all I've had was fighting and scheming and lying... Always and Forever doesn't mean anything. I told you I don't want my child's father to be a monster. I don't want her to be afraid of you like I was afraid of my father — like _you_ were afraid of _yours_. But when I see you like this..." Caroline draws a hoarse, shaky breath, as a sob quakes her chest. "I picked you and you're breaking my heart, Klaus."

His eyes are brimmed with tears, but she can still see the madness there. Any attempt at talking reason into him will be useless. He's too far gone. This isn't a rational conversation, not to him. It never was. He's all raw feelings, out to see blood in order to satiate the monster inside.

"You don't want to break out of this cycle," she continues, sadly. "You _live_ for this. You hurt them, they hurt you, and none of you ever stop. Someone always wants their revenge. Rebekah did when she brought your father here, because you'd wronged her. And now you want to kill her. And then Elijah will want to kill you. It won’t ever end. You need to take a good look at yourself, Klaus, and ask if this is someone you can be truly proud of. If that's the man you want your daughter to know. A man who would terrorize and manipulate his own family. Is that the kind of father you want to be? Because if it is, you should tell me now, so I can take my baby far away from you, to some place you will never find her."

His eyes flash. "You wouldn't."

Caroline looks him dead in the eye, putting Tunde's blade in his hand, her voice sharpening in an instant. "Try me."

She turns on her heels, seeing as Elijah haphazardly tries to pull himself up. She won't help him anymore. They can get themselves out of this. She is _done_.

"Don't turn your back on me!" Klaus roars, like he has any right to demand anything from her at this point.

Caroline feels her temper spike again as she whips around. "Or what?! Are you going to stick that blade in my chest to -"

A howl escapes Caroline's lips as she is struck by a sharp wave of pain. The same stabbing feeling she felt before, only this time it's so much worse. It starts on the lower part of her abdomen and radiates through her body, making her double over, gnashing her teeth and clutching her belly. Another raw wail tears from her chest as a second stab hits her, a sound desperate, sobby, filled with fear.

"Caroline," she hears Klaus' voice. "What is it? What happen -"

"Don't come near me!" she bellows, stretching out a hand and throwing him back with a powerful gust of wind. She straightens her back, the throbbing pain persisting.

Klaus is looking at her with big eyes, the rage he had in him suddenly evaporated, replaced by something like fear.

She wants to throw up.

Every step she takes is pure agony and the tears are rolling freely down her cheeks now, only partly because of the pain. Caroline is terrified. She needs to get the hell out of here. _Fast_.

As soon as she crosses the front gate, she turns. Klaus is but a few steps behind. He stops when she does, peering at her with a silent plea, but she can't even stand the sight of his face right now. So she points her hand to the spell circle and, with a few enchanted words, destroys the object she'd placed there. When Klaus tries to follow her out, he can't.

"Caroline," he calls after her as she slowly makes her way back to her car. "Caroline! Undo this spell! _Caroline_!"

Caroline stifles another sob and ignores his desperate screaming, gets in her car and drives away.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Rebekah opens her eyes to the vastness of the night sky above.

She takes a deep breath, feeling a stab in her chest as the cool air fills her lungs. It always hurts to breathe again after dying.

Dying... She was dead.

The last thing she remembers is the horrible grimace on Nik's face, twisted with rage, as he stabbed her in the chest. _With the stake_.

Her blouse feels wet, but the wound is closed and the white oak is nowhere to be found.

"Welcome back, sister."

Rebekah sits up to find Elijah slumped against one of the tombs, one of his legs bent, the other stretched out before him. He looks awful, her poor brother — face ashen, dark circles under his eyes, ragged breath, clothes all rumpled and stained with blood. Rebekah has no idea how long she was out for, but it seems Elijah still hasn't made a full recovery.

The corner of his mouth curls into a lopsided grin.

"What..." she starts, looking down at her chest again. How is it possible that she's still here if Nik stabbed her with the white oak stake?

"He missed," Elijah says.

Rebekah blinks at him. "Nik never misses."

Elijah shrugs.

Rebekah saw the whole mess with Caroline from her hiding corner. She was just trying to help, but Klaus' rage had escaped its leash. All he saw was red. Not even the heavily pregnant mother of his child was spared. Poor Caroline... Rebekah could see the hurt in her eyes even from a distance.

She knew the situation with Elijah would blow up eventually, and when it did, the darkest part of Niklaus' rage would emerge. Elijah was playing with fire. But neither he nor Caroline deserved the treatment they got. It was Rebekah Klaus was mad at. The two of them were collateral damage because they dared to try protecting her. Rebekah was moved by Caroline's defense of her. The two of them never got along well in Mystic Falls, but they really did find a way around their differences in New Orleans. Girls, sticking together in a boys' world. She would go as far as to call Caroline a friend now, and that's all the more reason why she took Klaus' behavior towards her personally. That girl's done nothing but forgive and forget her brother's stupid temper since she was kidnapped from her hometown and brought to this city. He should've counted himself lucky that she hadn't given up on him yet. A lesser person — perhaps a _saner_ person, someone who loved him just a tiny bit less — would've abandoned him long ago.

The same goes for her, and for Elijah. They've stuck by Nik's side though fire and blood. Through silver daggers and toxic bites. Through the highest of his insanity and the lowest of his depressions. But nothing is ever enough for Nik. No amount of dedication or love can demote him of his paranoid delusions. Caroline was right; hatred is what fuels Nik's very existence. For a long time, it had to be. It was the same for all of them. It's what kept them alive throughout so many centuries, before they even understood the full extent of their powers, back when they felt so much more vulnerable, and when Mikael was a constant threat, breathing down their necks. But it doesn't have to be like that anymore. Not unless they allow it.

Nik can't recognize happiness when it is seven months pregnant and looking him in the eye. Rebekah doubted there was any hope left for him before; now that he's gone and broken Caroline's heart as well... Her poor brother. So warped it cripples him. What is the point of living like that? She's had a thousand years too much of this. No more.

And she said as much to him, as she yelled in his face that his wickedness wasn't just going to destroy their family; it was going to kill his own child. Nik snarled that she's always wanted him dead, and, at last... She admitted that, maybe... Maybe it was true. For a moment, at least. For just a minute, when she was forced to meet Marcel in the dead of night, away from prying eyes, like their love was a dirty thing, while Nik sauntered about with a different lover every night, she wished her brother dead. It was enough for her to ask Genevieve to send that note to Mikael. Literally a moment later she regretted it, wanted to take it back. But it was too late. Wishing for her brother's death for even just one moment is horrible enough, so much so that she refused to admit it.

Nik took the stake and drove it right into her chest, his eyes dark as the night, glowing with tears.

But he missed. And Nik never misses.

Rebekah pulls herself up. "Can you stand?" she asks Elijah.

He sighs wearily. "Honestly, I haven't tried since I tumbled."

"Come on."

She takes his arms and gets him on his feet. He's so weak his body is shaking. He needs to feed. Rebekah puts one of his arms around her shoulders and wraps a hand on his waist. "Lean on me," she tells him as they start walking towards the exit.

When they turn around the last corner before the main gate, they see Nik. A dejected figure, lonesome and sad, sitting on one of the tombs closest to the gate, absently toying with the white oak stake.

Rebekah stops, takes a sharp intake of air.

"Rebekah..." Elijah says, warningly, sensing what she’s about to do. She helps him lean against one of the tombs. "Don't do this, sister. Let him be."

She peers into her older brother's worry-ridden eyes, takes in his unfamiliar lackluster appearance. "We have to put an end to this one way or another. I'm not going to spend the rest of eternity running from my own brother."

Elijah presses his lips tightly together and gives her hand a gentle squeeze. If Klaus really is bent on ending her tonight, there'll be nothing he can do in the state he's in.

Rebekah prowls towards him like one who approaches a giant wolf in the wild, but, even as tension threads in her stomach, she realizes he is different. All the fight seems to have bled away from him, the fire blazing behind his eyes has gone out. Klaus looks... defeated. Crushed.

She stuffs her hands in her pockets, searches for the moon in the sky. It hasn't reached its apex yet, which is when the boundary spell will wear off. Explains why he's still here, when the anguish over Caroline is clearly eating away at him. It's ironic, but Rebekah suddenly finds herself feeling sorry for him. Or perhaps it's for all of them. They've all lost something tonight, but perhaps none more so than Nik. Even if it is entirely his own fault. None of them are innocent, and none of them are entirely villains, either. They're all victims and perpetrators, trying to stay alive.

"You missed my heart," she says.

"Perhaps I did," he replies, still not meeting her eyes, his voice dull and weak. "Or perhaps I never meant to kill you. Perhaps I just wanted you to feel a fraction of the fear I felt when father came for me."

"Do you yourself know the truth?"

"I know this. You accuse me of being evil and yet you are the one who conspired to kill your own blood."

"You made our lives a living hell, Nik. You tormented us."

His blue gaze flicks towards her at last, and though his expression is grim, his eyes are softer than she expected. "I love my family," he says. "I love you... Elijah... I loved all of you." He jumps down from the tomb. Rebekah keeps the apprehension off her face, even as he approaches her with the white oak in his hand. “I know I can be difficult, but I did not make myself this way. It was Mikael who ruined me."

"He ruined me, too. That's what you forget," she retorts, her voice a bit too high, her eyes rimmed with tears. "Centuries later, each of us is broken. You, with your anger and paranoia... Me, with my fear of abandonment. And poor Elijah..." She casts a glance at their brother, still far behind, and looking away to give them a modicum of privacy, but certainly listening to their every word. "He dedicates himself to everyone _but_ himself. We are the strongest creatures in the world and yet we are damaged beyond repair. We live without hope, but we will never die. And anyone who dares to come near us, gets infected with our misery. We are the definition of cursed.... Always and forever."

A breeze sweeps in and the front gate blows open. The moon has finally reached its apex. She could flash away from there if she wanted to, disappear in the world like Katerina Petrova did all those years ago. She doubts Nik would hunt her with the same purpose he devoted to her search. But she wouldn't have a single day of peace, would never feel truly free, knowing that there would always be a place in the world she could never return to.

"The barrier is down. Whatever you're going to do to me, do it now," she says. And the truth is... She won't even fight him, if he truly wants her dead. Caroline was right. Who hurts who is just a matter of perspective in this family. It's all they do. Maybe death truly is the only way to end this cycle of abuse.

"You said our father ruined us," Nik starts. "And I can't help but wonder... What if his father ruined him?"

"What if it's hereditary, you mean? Grandfather ruined father. Father ruined us. Does that mean you'll ruin your child, too?"

Nik stays quiet, his eyes down, shoulders sagging as though under the weight of generations and generations of spoiled fruits and tainted love.

"I doubt father ever cared. You have a chance to break out of the cycle, do better for your daughter than our parents ever did for any of us. It's up to you."

"I ruined it already," he says quietly, sounding so broken Rebekah's heart tightens.

"What's done is done, Nik. You made a mistake. You said terrible things to the one person who’s truly innocent in all of this. You can't take it back, but you can try to make amends."

"What's done is never done. It remains within us. A story we tell ourselves so we know who we are. Vicious father... A bastard son... The sister who betrayed him... A child who should've never been." He walks to the gate, and then turns around to face her once more. "What is it that you want, Rebekah?"

"Same things that I've wanted since I was a child. I want a home. I want a family. I want someone to love me... And I want to live."

He nods. "Then go. Go as far as your heart commands you. We're far too damaged to remain together, less a family now than a volatile mix of ingredients. You took this city from me once, but it will be mine again. I don't know if I can still call myself a father after today... But I will do everything in my power to make this place safe, for my daughter and for her mother. No doubt Elijah will choose to stay. But you, sister..." He pauses, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "You are free."

Klaus stares at her and then turns away, walking out of the cemetery and disappearing into the night. Rebekah chokes out a sobbing breath. She thought she'd be relieved, even happy, to be walking away with her life and her freedom. Instead, she feels empty. This is not how she wanted to say goodbye to Nik.

"He never misses," Elijah says, and Rebekah turns to find he somehow dragged himself near. Again, he's smiling. Their brother never meant to kill her, after all. Elijah's unshakable faith in Niklaus remains.

"Are you feeling better?" she asks, wiping away her tears.

"I'm getting there."

She nods. "I don't suppose you have any desire to join me."

Elijah's eyes flicker away, then back. "I do hope you find everything you're looking for."

Even though she already knew what his answer would be, it still stings to hear it. His abnegation is far too strong for him to leave Niklaus. And then there's Caroline... No, her big brother won’t be leaving this city, not for a long time. But a girl can dream.

"Elijah, when I brought Mikael, I never for a second meant to hurt you," she tells him.

He smiles. "I know."

"I was certain that Klaus really meant to kill me. Whether he never did at all or if he changed his mind... Maybe somewhere, deep down... He still is the brother we once knew."

"Very deep, but... He's still in there."

Rebekah wraps her arms around her brother, the one who's cared for them all for so long, and gives him a tight hug and a long kiss on his cheek. She can only hope that his faith in Nik’s redemption gets rewarded after all. Whether it's through the baby or Caroline or something else entirely. If Nik can find a way to heal his soul, then maybe Elijah will be finally free as well, able to rest and live his own life for a change.

"Help him find his way," she whispers, before pulling away and walking out.

She stops, closes her eyes and inhales deeply, letting the cold night air fill her lungs as though for the first time in centuries. At last, Rebekah smiles to herself.

This is the beginning of the rest of her life. She has no idea what awaits her, doesn't even know where to begin. But, for once, the unknown doesn't scare her.

A thousand years too late, perhaps, but Rebekah will finally make something of her eternity. May it be long and good.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"This is going to feel cold," the doctor says as she slicks Caroline's belly with gel. She's so nervous she doesn't even register the sensation. It’s doubtful she'd notice if the doctor set her on fire.

Caroline hasn't stopped shaking since she left the cemetery. She doesn't think she's ever been this terrified in her entire life. Maybe the closest was when she was trapped inside the plantation house while it burned up. Something is wrong with her baby. She can feel it. She thought she was having contractions, going into labor. The stabbing pain didn't stop until she arrived back at the French Quarter, and even then her body still felt strange. Part of her fears the moment the doctor will turn on the ultrasound and fail to find a heartbeat.

The exam hasn't even begun yet and already Caroline's eyes are watering.

Cami takes her hand, holding it tight between her own. Caroline has to remind herself not to squeeze back too hard; she might actually break Cami’s human fingers with her werewolf strength.

Caroline was so lost she had no idea what she was doing or where to go as she drove back to the Quarter, but Cami was the only person she could think of, so as soon as she was back, she made her way to Rousseau's. Her friend only needed one look at her to know something was very wrong.

"What is it?" she asked, all concern.

"Do you think... Do you think your friend could squeeze me in for.. an appointment?" Caroline replied, trying not to choke on her words.

"Did something happen to the baby?"

Caroline just shook, doing her best to hold back the sobs.

Cami removed her apron, told a friend she had to step out, grabbed Caroline's hand and walked her to the doctor's office. Dr. Lisa was seeing a routine patient then, but when Cami said it was an emergency, she cut the consult short to see Caroline. When the doctor asked to go in, however, Caroline got stuck. Fear tore through her guts like panic, a tiny voice in her head saying _please, please, let this not be true, let this all be my imagination, please_.

"Hey," Cami said in a soothing tone, taking her hands and looking straight into her eyes. "It's gonna be ok."

"What if it isn't? What if the baby... What if something..."

"Stop. You don't know that yet."

Caroline was quiet for a moment. "Can you come in with me? I don't wanna be alone in there."

Cami didn't even reply, just took her arm and gently walked her in.

While the doctor set up the ultrasound, she explained everything she felt.

"Do you still feel any pain?" Dr. Lisa asked.

"No, not now."

“Are you experiencing any bleeding?”

“I don’t think so.”

"Ok. That's a good sign."

Caroline allowed herself to relax for a second, and then the doctor lifted her shirt and spread the gel and panic took over again.

She takes another shuddery breath while the doctor touches the ultrasound to her belly, facing away from the screen. Cami's hand is probably getting crushed with the strength Caroline's gripping her now, but she doesn't complain.

And then, all of a sudden, the strong, steady sound of a heartbeat fills the room. Caroline gasps as tears free-flow down her cheeks.

"Your baby is ok," the doctor says. "Her heartbeats are strong, but a little accelerated. She seems to be in some distress. Were you in some kind of accident or had a big scare...?"

Caroline hesitates. "Something like that."

The doctor exchanges a look with Cami, then turns back to the monitor. "The discomfort you're experiencing is likely due to stress. It's not uncommon for episodes like this to happen when the mother is under great duress, but it can be dangerous at this stage of the pregnancy because it can lead to an early labor. Your baby is not ready to come out yet, so I recommend absolute rest. You need peace and quiet, no stressful situations at all, at least for a little while, until everything is back to normal. Eat well, get full nights of sleep and try not exert yourself with exercises or heavy chores — _and stay out of trouble_. All kinds of trouble. That’s really important."

If she wasn't still so on edge, Caroline would laugh. If only this doctor knew... Caroline's whole pregnancy has been a collection of extremely stressful situations, punctuated by rare moments of moderate peace. In a way, it's probably a miracle she hasn't had a miscarriage yet. It probably would’ve happened, if the baby didn't have healing blood and werewolf resilience. It makes her think how spectacularly she has failed on the one job she had so far: to protect her unborn child. If her daughter is still alive, it's definitely not because of her parents. It's _in spite_ of them. They were supposed to shelter her from the evils of the world and all they do is put her in danger. But never Caroline felt so close to losing her baby as she did today...

The last few days have been the perfect storm. Nearly burning to death, nights in a row with very little sleep, pushing her magic to its limits, all the worry over Klaus and Rebekah, and then that argument at the cemetery... It was too much.

It wasn't _just_ Klaus. But it was _also_ Klaus. If something had happened to the baby... If she'd had a miscarriage or gone into early labor... She would never forgive him. Ever. Even if, deep down, she knows he never meant for any of this to happen. The way he screamed after her as she left the cemetery... He was terrified. Not as much as her, but still.

She hopes he's feeling awful right now. That he's scared to death. He deserves the despair.

Caroline just... Can't look at him right now. Whatever happened after she left, if he killed Elijah and Rebekah or if he let them go... She can't go back to the compound. Can't be with him, under the same roof. Just thinking about it makes her blood boil. That place will never give her the peace and quiet she needs.

No. She's not going back there.

"I'll give you a minute to clean yourself up," the doctor says, offering her some tissues.

When Dr. Lisa leaves, Cami immediately turns to her with murder in her green eyes. "What did he do?" she demands, ready for a fight.

Caroline lets go of her hand, looking down at her belly while she wipes out the gel. She doesn't even know where to start... How to explain.

"He didn't... Attack you... Did he?" Cami asks. "Because I swear to God — I don't care if he's a thousand or a billion years old, I will kick his -"

"No," Caroline cuts her off. The last thing she needs right now is to rile Cami up against Klaus. If anything happens to the other woman, Caroline might actually have to assassinate the father of her daughter. "He didn't attack me, he just... He's too much. Every time I think things are going to quiet down for a bit and that we're finally gonna have time to... Did you know we don't even have a nursery yet? I haven't bought a single onesie. I spent the last six months so afraid my daughter would die before she was even born that I didn't prepare for when she is here."

"I'm sorry," Cami says, earnestly.

"I just can't be in that house anymore. You heard the doctor, I need peace."

"You can come stay with me if you want."

Caroline tries to grin, but she’s afraid the best she can offer right now is a weird twist of her lips. "Thank you. But I don't want to bring that on you."

"It's no trouble at all, really. I have a spare room. You can stay for as long as you want. Besides, I've wanted an excuse to slap a Mikaelson for a long time now."

"That's very generous of you, Cami, and I really appreciate it, but... You've had your share of Klaus trouble. And I don't think I'm staying in the Quarter anyway."

"Where are you gonna go, then?"

Caroline goes quiet for a moment, considering.

"I think I know just the place."

 

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The walk back from Lafayette Cemetery to the compound could've taken mere minutes, but somehow Klaus makes it last an hour. He's never found himself in such a paradoxical state before, and it's beyond disorienting; at the same time he's desperate to get home, he's also terrified of what he might find when he gets there.

How could everything come crashing down so fast? He thought he _finally_ had it all under control. They had Davina. The witch threat was contained. He'd recovered his family's home. Marcel answered to him. Rebekah and Elijah were back on his side. Things with Caroline were — not fixed, but certainly starting to look up. And then all of a sudden... Just one second of negligence, and it all turned to ash.

Davina died in that sham of a ritual. The witches regained their power, and then some. He found out he spent the last century believing a lie, that his own sister and his best friend had been behind the downfall of his life, responsible for the very moment where everything started to go wrong after a thousand years of trying to make it right. And then there was Elijah and Caroline...

Klaus was certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, they'd been together. But if that werewolf-powered slap he received wasn't enough to convince him, then the outrage and the hurt in Caroline's eyes certainly were. He got it wrong. Somehow, he got it wrong. He was so assured of what he saw... Elijah was going to kiss her, and she wasn't moving out of the way. Somehow, that wasn't the whole picture. Klaus still feels very much betrayed, if not by her, then by his brother. But he's also ashamed. He could've killed Elijah today — not just because of that, of course, but if he says at least part of his disappointment and his righteousness were not rooted in that kiss that never happened...

Klaus has been wrong before. Not something he particularly likes to admit, but it happens occasionally. Apparently, however, never quite as often as on the last few days.

What a monumental collection of failures he's hoarded in such a short period of time.

Rebekah used to say he could talk his way out of hell. Indeed, Klaus learned very early on in life how powerful words can be. The whippings and beatings he got from his father all faded, but the accusations and humiliations cut much deeper. He still carries those scars with him, will probably carry them forever. And so he taught himself how to wield words as weapons. He doesn't fancy himself as a diplomat like Elijah, doesn't have the patience or the modesty for negotiations, would much rather sort things out through a good old, and much quicker, bloodshed; but Klaus' tongue is as sharp as his fangs. Sometimes more. Today was yet another proof of that.

He felt an unreasonable bout of jealousy festering at the pit of his stomach when Caroline kneeled down next to Elijah, horrified at what he'd done, and pulled the blade out of his chest with her own hands. A verbose rush of anger formed in the back of his throat and, before he could catch them, or even allay them into something less biting, words had formed and spilled out.

Words hit stronger than blows. He knows that better than anyone. And he unleashed all the might of his anger on Caroline, all because of something that, apparently, never happened. To think he might've been the one to cause her to... He doesn't even like to think about it, refuses to entertain the idea that she could've...

The way she doubled over, how pain registered so clearly on every line on her face, the fear in her eyes... Klaus went cold. The weight of what he did feel like a hook lodged in his heart. A slap to the face was easy. It was physical pain. What Klaus couldn't handle was the look in her eyes, that terrible expression on her face, like she wasn't even seeing him anymore, only this horrible thing she desperately needed to get rid of. Klaus has provoked quite a myriad of not-so-positive emotions on Caroline over the years, but he's never seen that look on her face before. Suddenly all the fight, all the fire, cleared like rain clouds after a storm, leaving nothing to muddle the waters between himself and the damage his cursed words had caused.

Elijah was right, after all. He tries so hard to distance himself from the memory of Mikael, only to end up being exactly like him. His child is not even born yet and already he's hurting her.

Klaus went into that cemetery with a sister, a brother and a woman who means the world to him expecting his child. Now he's not sure how much of that he still has left. Maybe none of it.

This is not how revenge is supposed to feel.

No, this feels like... Failing. Or falling. Only there's no bottom to reach, no end. The emptiness inside of him goes on and on and on... Devouring everything in its way like a black hole. He wonders how much of him will be left before his ordeal in New Orleans reaches its inevitable end.

When he finally makes it back to the compound, it is packed with vampires.

He has no idea what they’re doing there, but it’s a good indication that he won’t find the one thing he expected to.

Klaus takes a sharp breath. "Is there a reason you lot are loitering in my home?"

"I asked them to be here."

Of course. The final piece of the puzzle. Marcel.

If he'd made his grand appearance a few hours ago, Klaus would've probably ripped his heart out in a blink. He was _dying_ for a chance to get his hands on Marcel. His betrayal didn't hurt as much as Rebekah's, but it was close. Except he is not his blood. Klaus might've considered him a brother once, but he wouldn't have hesitated before making him pay, if anything than to torture Rebekah even further.

He was his right-hand man. Klaus trusted him as much as he trusted Elijah. He raised that man since he was a little boy. Taught him everything he knows. The very best and the very worst. And Klaus mourned his death like he'd lost a part of himself, spent years blaming his own arrogance and cowardice for Marcel's death. Couldn't even hear his name, couldn't look his sister in the eye and see all that grief, all that pain. And all along, it had been their fault. Their betrayal. They took everything from Klaus. _Everything_.

He could never kill Rebekah. Not really. He might've thought he could, but the truth is... He'd never stab her with the white oak. She broke his heart like no one ever before, but she's still his baby sister. He wanted her to be scared, to feel the same kind of terror he experienced because of her plot to have him killed.

But Marcellus... No, he shouldn't be spared. He should pay for what he did. For destroying the only thing Klaus has ever truly held close to his heart in one thousand years of a meagre existence and then daring to call himself king.

"You and I need to settle this out in the open," Marcel says, squaring his shoulders, staring Klaus straight in the eye, pretending to be brave.

"I thought you would've run off by now," he says.

"Yeah, well. This is my town. You may want me to beg for forgiveness, but I'm not sorry. I may not be able to beat you, but I came here to face you, to end this in front of my people. If you're gonna kill me for that, get on with it."

Klaus' eyes flash.

Fool... Did he bring all his men to witness his downfall? So they'd hate Klaus and never swear loyalty to him? Does Marcel really think he cares about that? He'd just as easily kill all those miserable rats, teach them all a lesson. Klaus could be done with the lot of them in a second. Wouldn't even break a sweat. Hasn't Marcel understood that they are nothing compared to him? That he can crunch them all between his fingers?

Sabine's boundary spell gave him the perfect opportunity to run. But he'd rather die. Such a lovesick loon.

As he peers at the man he once considered the truest of friends, Klaus finds... Nothing. No fire. No anger. No thirst for vindication. A few hours back and he'd have Marcel's head on a spike in the middle of this courtyard. Now, however... It just doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters. He's already lost.

Empty. He's just empty.

Klaus turns his back on Marcel and walks away.

 

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Elijah expected Klaus to dash off into the night, straight back to the compound after Caroline, but it's not what he does. Instead, Klaus lags behind, takes a winding way back in regular human speed — and not even a human in a particular hurry.

He'd like to say he has no idea why his brother acting so unlike himself, but Elijah knows. And he can sympathize.

He was still in a bit of a daze when Caroline left, saw through foggy eyes as she doubled over in pain, as Niklaus followed her all the way to the front gate. She walked out and he remained trapped. The spell should've bound her, too, because of the baby. If she left, it means she managed to undo it. But if Niklaus didn't... It's because she wouldn't allow him to.

His brother is an idiot. All that time he'd been harboring resentment towards her and Elijah because of that no-kiss. Part of him knew it had to be because of that, but he didn't want to provoke Niklaus' ire unnecessarily, and on the off chance that he'd been angry about some other random pettiness — which wasn't unlikely — then it would've been best to leave it at that.

Elijah was wrong; he overstepped, allowed his judgement to get clouded by his feelings and did something terribly misguided, which he deeply regrets. It was one second of carelessness, and look at all the damage it caused… But Caroline stopped him, and she did so by proclaiming her love for his brother. How could Klaus see everything _but_ that? How can he still, at this stage, doubt that girl's feelings for him? Is he blind? Elijah knows of his brother's complete ineptitude when it comes to processing his own emotions; Niklaus has a fantastic eye for reading other people, unraveling everyone around him with impressive acumen, but the same cannot be said about himself. He lives immerse in denial, nurturing his grudges whilst burying everything that he deems a _weakness_. Elijah expected him to be moronic in understanding - and accepting — his feelings for Caroline and, most of all, in _acting_ on them in an appropriate manner. But how could he not _see her_?

Was it fear or insecurity what made him refuse the truth? Was he waiting for her to make a decision, to take a step forward? Or for the other shoe to drop and, with it, the realization that it had all been a mistake?

Well, it matters no more. After what happened at the cemetery...

Even from a distance, as he follows his brother, stopping once or twice to replenish his energy from ill-advised tourists, Elijah can't help but pity him. He seems... lost. Overtaken with dejection. His invincible, unflappable brother, reduced to such a sad, lonely figure, ambling through the streets of New Orleans with his cold heart shattered to pieces.

 _By his own fault_ , a voice in Elijah's head speaks. Niklaus threatened and alienated Rebekah, lashed out at Caroline to the point she felt physically ill. Elijah... Well, he's not without fault. He did stab his brother with that blade, which he assumed was bad, but had no idea just _how_ terrible. If he'd known, he would've gone for the old neck snap as Caroline suggested. He only had the blade inside himself for a few minutes, but it was more than enough for him to know anguish like he'd never known before. It was... A living hell, quite literally. He's not sorry he tried to stop Niklaus from killing Rebekah, but he is sorry he resorted to such a dreadful approach.

If Niklaus hadn't been so outrageously excessive in his levy against their sister, Elijah would have sided with him. What Rebekah did was indefensible. Bringing Mikael to New Orleans... Whatever Niklaus did, however cruel he might've been, nothing justifies reaching out to the man they'd spent miserable centuries running away from. Never settling, never taking roots. She was as unhappy as they were while they ran from Mikael. How could she so easily forget? And for a romance? She was willing to sacrifice Niklaus for Marcel.

Elijah can understand her pain, her anger even. But not that. She should've spoken to him first. He was never a fan of Marcellus as the rest of his family, always a bit jealous, if he's to be completely honest, of how adored he was by both his siblings. But he would've done anything in his power to make sure Rebekah would be happy by their side, even if that meant fighting Niklaus. Truth be told, he didn't fight for her when their brother kept her daggered for 52 years. Perhaps that's why Rebekah didn't trust him. He tried to convince Klaus to set her free several times, but he kept denying it, and Elijah let him be, trying not to spite him further, afraid he would be next.

In a way, he, too, was responsible for things reaching the terrible climax they did in 1919.

But then it all ended, for all of them. New Orleans burned to the ground. Niklaus and Rebekah fled. Elijah barely escaped with his life as he tried to stall their father. And then spent decades apart from his siblings, afraid to lead Mikael straight to them. Straight to Niklaus. The next time they saw each other, Rebekah was back in a coffin, alongside Kol and Finn, and Klaus was but a shadow of the man he'd been in New Orleans. Elijah hated him with all his heart for thinking he'd murdered their own family.

And it all started with Rebekah and Marcel.

Because of that mess that started one hundred years ago, they might've lost Caroline and the baby.

So yes, Elijah can understand Klaus’ hesitation to go home. He, too, is afraid to face the consequences.

He gives Niklaus a moment to go into the compound on his own and face whatever it is that awaits him there away from his older brother's prying eyes, but when he hears Marcellus' voice, Elijah stills.

That idiot... Rebekah sacrificed everything so he could run away with his head still attached to his neck and his little dead witch by his side and he jeopardizes it all by staying back to face Niklaus' wrath as though he has any chance to survive. This will only break his family apart even further. Rebekah won't ever forgive Klaus if he kills Marcel.

Elijah's blood boils in his veins.

This _boy_ is the very reason all this came to pass. Why Rebekah is gone. Why Caroline is... wherever she is. Why Niklaus is broken, perhaps beyond repair. Why their family lost their home and their right to happiness a hundred years ago. How dare he show his face?

Elijah enters the compound, staying in the shadows while he watches. He expects to see Niklaus at the height of his ruthlessness, taking out Marcel and the rest of his riffraff just to placate the pain in his heart. Instead, his brother turns around and walks away, going up the stairs and disappearing from sight. Elijah is momentarily thrown by it. He thought he'd see his brother's eyes flash golden, ablaze with anger, but he just stared spiritlessly at Marcel, the light completely gone from him.

A ripple of uncertainty runs through the crowd, who were obviously waiting for violence to break out.

Well, they shall have it.

Niklaus may be too disconsolate to give them what they deserve, but Elijah isn't.

He cracks his neck, undoes the button on his jacket, and, taking full advantage of his superior speed and strength, flashes to Marcellus, grabbing him by his throat and throwing him across the courtyard, against a wall, as though he were a vase. The sound of his painful moan sounds like music to his ears.

"Good evening," Elijah says, his voice booming across the packed courtyard. "I trust I need no introduction. After all, this was once my family's home. Tonight... I'm taking it back." His lips curl into a grim, ugly smile. In all honesty, he'd been dying to do this since they moved in, couldn't stand having to share his home with a bunch of useless vermin and lowlifes. But Niklaus insisted that they needed an army to watch the place, guard Caroline, keep her safe. Clearly, they were as good as nothing. Should've just kicked them all out long ago. "Your privileges have all been revoked," he announces, and then turns, his eyes fixing on Marcel.

Elijah feels anger burning at the pit of his stomach, visibly stiffens with the effort not to rip his heart out right there. Instead, he points a finger at the man as he pulls himself up. "Out of respect for my sister, I will grant you this one mercy. I will allow you to keep your life. However, you are hereby exiled. If I so much as find a trace of you in the French Quarter, it will not end well for you. Do you understand?"

Marcel's mouth compresses into a fine line, his eyes sparkling with the need to fight back. The insolence of that man... Elijah should beat him to a pulp just to teach him a lesson. But he'll allow him to leave. For now. He has more important things to worry about than this miserable excuse for a vampire.

"That is all," he says to the crowd of stunned faces. "Run along."

Slowly, the vampires begin to trickle out. Marcel waits until his guys have all turned before joining them. If he so much as dare to set foot anywhere near Elijah or his family, he will learn the meaning of regret.

He lets out a steadying breath, pulling down his jacket, and then looks up, half-hoping to see Niklaus' appraising eyes. But he's not there. That can't be good...

He finds his brother standing by Caroline's bedroom, his eyes distant and glazed over as he peers inside. He doesn't think he's ever seen Niklaus looking more devastated than he does right then. Disheartened. Dispirited. To see him this way, devoid of that dangerous energy he constantly exudes, is more disturbing than seeing him completely consumed by rage as he'd been at the cemetery.

Elijah's heart sinks.

"She's gone," Niklaus speaks after a moment, his voice as empty as the rest of him. "Caroline's left us."

 

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Lost.

That's how Caroline feels. Lost. The last twenty-four hours have lasted about a hundred, and all the accumulated exhaustion of the past few days are weighing down on her, hard. But she doesn't feel like shutting her eyes and going to sleep. She doesn't feel like doing anything, really. All she wants to do is sit right outside the cabin and watch as the fire creeps, flames dancing hypnotically before her eyes.

Cami helped her pack in record speed. They just threw all her stuff and dragged it to her car. Caroline wanted to take a cab, but Cami made a good point that no cab driver would want to drive her deep into the Bayou, all the way to where the werewolves are. She could've stolen one of Klaus' cars, of course — which would've been the least he deserved — but she didn't want to take any of his things and give him any plausible excuses to chase after her. All she wants for now is to be left alone.

Eve didn't even wait to hear the full story before opening her arms and welcoming Caroline into the camp. "You can stay however long you need," she said, smiling. Caroline has no idea what to do with her life, short, medium or long term, but Eve's warm hospitality was comforting. "We don't usually have this many people," the werewolf explained as Caroline made her way through dozens of tents and trailers to the cabins closer to the river. "They've come from all over the state, even from other parts of the country. They'll be thrilled you're here."

It was more than a little overwhelming to know that her pregnancy had drawn this many people — _werewolves_ — to New Orleans. She really didn't know what to say. The state she's in, the last thing Caroline wanted was to be treated as some freak show attraction by a bunch of strangers. But the ones who came out to say hello were all very nice and respectful. No one tried to touch her belly, at least. That's something.

"You can stay here," Eve said, motioning to one of the cabins. "It's mine. I used to share it with my sister, but she left a few years ago. There's a spare bed and we got our own bathroom. It's not much, but -"

"It's perfect," Caroline said, offering her as earnest a smile as she could muster. "I can't thank you enough."

"I'll light up the bonfire outside and we'll be gathering at the main cabin for dinner in a little while. I'll come fetch you. Go ahead, make yourself comfortable."

In comparison to the Mikaelson's lavishing collection of mansions, it really is very modest. The cabin is small, sparsely decorated, but it's very clean and cozy and, frankly, everything Caroline needs right now. Luxury hasn't come without its costs in New Orleans. All that opulence has led her to an emergency consult, fearing for her baby's life. She can certainly do without the riches if it means having some much deserved peace. That’s a priceless commodity in this city.

But getting settled, having a good hot shower and changing into warm clothes didn't have the effect Caroline expected. Instead of relaxing, the insanity of the last few days finally caught up. For days in a row, she had been operating on autopilot as disaster stroke nonstop. It was one thing after the next, and Caroline barely had any time to breathe or think of anything that wasn't saving her own ass or somebody else's. Now that it's all over, it's like a fire inside of her went out, leaving her cold and oddly empty.

She's not feeling any pain and it seems like the baby will be fine. Not thanks to her or the miracles of modern medicine. Caroline's certain that if it wasn't for the baby's blood healing properties, she'd be in a hospital now and her child in a neonatal ICU, if alive at all. The fact that the baby was in so much distress not even magic was fast enough to heal leaves no doubt about the seriousness of what happened. And as much as Caroline wishes she could blame it all on Klaus, the truth is she feels terribly guilty herself for pushing through even though she knew her body was giving obvious signs that it was dangerously close to a collapse. The baby may be miraculous, but she's still only human, and her stubbornness and refusal to listen to her own limits, paired up with a humongous amount of stress, was a recipe for tragedy.

Parents of the year, aren't they?

And now… what? Where to go from here?

It's not like she'd made any thorough planning before. In fact, she was running behind on everything. Almost seven months and she still hadn't allowed herself to buy anything for the child. Not even a teddy bear. A few weeks ago, in one of her escapades from the compound, Caroline passed by a baby shop. A little yellow dress on display caught her attention. She stood there, paralyzed, staring, for ages. It was so tiny... How could a person actually fit into that? She tried to picture her daughter in that dress, what she'll look like when she's finally here. Her eyes, her hair, her nose... If she'll have dimples, like Klaus. Or freckles, like her. If she'll be more Mikaelson or Forbes. And she... Couldn't. Caroline's mind just went completely blank.

The worst part is that it wasn't a one-time thing. It happened every single time she attempted to picture herself with a little child. Caroline just can't imagine her and Klaus and a baby. In some subconscious level, she still doesn't believe this will actually happen, and it blocks her from preparing to have the baby.

Today, when she felt that stab of pain at the cemetery, there was a voice in her head, amid the panic and the fear, saying, in a rather calm and cool way, _See? I told you. It won't happen_. And Caroline just... She broke down. Like it was her fault. Her lack of faith was causing her to lose her baby.

She doesn't want to say it outloud. Doesn't want to admit to anyone that she's been having these fears, these doubts. She feels terrible, ashamed, the worst mother-to-be in the world, and letting other people in on this will only make it more real. But the truth is... Now that she's left the compound, everything seems ten times worse. Caroline didn't have any plans before, but what does she have now, aside from a new brand of anxiety about getting too worked up and going into early labor?

Despite everything, there was this sense that _something_ was being built over the last seven months, like they were going _somewhere_. For a second there, Caroline even thought she and Klaus were... Well. Finding some much needed common ground, for lack of a better definition. It all imploded so fast...

It occurred to her that perhaps it's time to go back to Mystic Falls. She needs a few days to make sure everything's fine and that she won't accidentally have some kind of crisis on the road, but then... It's a thought. She's still not certain that the powers that be won't follow her all the way back to Virginia and take the Mikaelson-less opportunity to finish her off. Like it or not, Klaus, Rebekah and Elijah have been running up and down the city fighting witches, vampires and hybrids for her. If it wasn't for her Original bodyguards, she doesn't know that she'd still be here. If it's true that witches all over the country have been murmuring about her baby... Well. News travel fast in the supernatural world. And then there's Tyler. He could've gone back home. That would be unpleasant... And what will everyone else do once they hear that her hybrid child has been labeled Most Likely To Be the Antichrist? Will they want to keep her safe, or will they join the hordes of haters? Will they have any sympathy for her, considering who the father is?

How did she get trapped between a rock and a hard place like this?

Caroline's lost in thought when she hears twigs and leaves crackling near. She rears her head like a deer, ready to attack and then bolt. But then she spots Rebekah, coming out of the shadows of the trees and walking towards her with a smile.

She jumps to her feet. "Rebekah," she breathes, relief washing over her. Caroline got so caught up in her own drama that she forgot to check on her, make sure she was ok. Something told her Klaus wasn't going to kill his sister after all, but there was an infinite list of terrible things he could've done. For once tonight she can be truly grateful about something.

"Yes, still in one piece," Rebekah says, as though reading her mind. "No one died. That I know of, at least."

"The bar has been so low lately I guess we should consider that a great day."

Rebekah chuckles, but it does not meet her eyes. "Camille told me where to find you. I couldn't leave before I knew you and my niece were ok."

Caroline blinks. "You're leaving? What happened to us girls sticking together?"

"Nik and I came to a sort of... Arrangement. I leave town for good, he allows me to. Can't pass that up."

"So he exiled you?"

"Not really. But he finally granted me the right to make my own decisions. I think we can all agree that the best for me, for our family, in light of everything that's happened, is that I go somewhere else."

Caroline swallows back an objection. As much as she wants to tell Rebekah to stay, she's probably not wrong. They've hurt each other way too much. Klaus won't be ready to trust her again for a while, and she won't be ready to forgive his rage and ruthlessness until they spend some time apart.

"A thousand years with Klaus," Caroline says with a light shrug. "I guess you deserve a few vacation days. Or... years."

"I really appreciate what you did today, Caroline. How you stood up for me. We've come a long way, haven’t we?"

She grins. "Who would’ve thought, huh?"

"I guess now is a good time for me to admit that I kind of always admired you." Caroline frowns almost comically. "Oh, don't get too over yourself. You must've known. I was nastier with you than with anyone else back there because the truth is... I envied you. You were the girl I wanted to be, if I could ever have anything resembling a normal life. Well, minus the whole sleeping with my brother part."

They both burst into laughter at the ridiculousness of the comment, Rebekah making a face in disgust and shaking her head. When the laughter finally dies down, Caroline is overtaken with a feeling she never thought she'd have upon seeing Rebekah leave: sadness.

"I wish we'd had more time to be friends," the Original vampire says.

"We're much more than that now," Caroline replies, placing a hand on her bump.

Rebekah beams, a smile so genuine it looks almost foreign on her face, normally so full of cynicism.

"Please, be careful," she says. "Our family has no shortage of enemies and she will inherit all of them."

"You can always come back and visit," Caroline offers. "I'm no stranger to keeping secrets from your brother. Years and years of practice in Mystic Falls."

"Well, if I can't..." Rebekah swallows, her eyes suddenly overbright, her voice thick with emotion. "Make sure to tell that little girl stories of her crazy auntie Bex. And let her know, despite my absence... I do love her very much."

Tears brim in Caroline's eyes as she nods her head, a million things passing between them. If they were that kind, they'd hug now. But they don't need it. Right now, there's probably no one in this world who understands Caroline's predicament as well as Rebekah. And that alone makes their bond stronger than any physical contact ever could.

"I hope you find what you're looking for," she says.

"You, too. I hope you find your place in the world, Caroline, where you want to raise your daughter, even if it's not here. But know this... Nik is... Complicated. A monster, at times. But he does want more from life than just to be feared. He's too broken to find it himself, but... I do believe there's still hope for him."

Caroline looks at Rebekah, something tightening in her chest, unsure of what to say, and then she looks away.

When she lifts her face again, Rebekah is no longer there. She can't help the twinge in her heart, the feeling that she's losing a friend. But part of her is happy for Rebekah, too. At least someone in this family will finally get to enjoy life, chase happiness instead of paddling away from nightmares.

Suddenly she feels a little bit lighter. It's not much, but it's something. In a day like today, any little hope counts.

Maybe, if there's a way for Rebekah... There might be a way for all of them yet.

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid to ask. lol 
> 
> So? Thoughts?
> 
> Please don't murder me! :(
> 
> But I'd really appreciate your thoughts! =) Curious to see whether my favorite parts were anybody else's as well. I really hope you guys enjoyed it and thanks for reading!
> 
> A/N: This episode ends with an amazing scene of Rebekah driving away in her convertible, which made no sense for me to describe here. But the scene is to the tune of an amazing song called _Walkabout_ by the _Augustines_ and that's the song I had playing in my head for that whole last scene, if you'd like some background music to go with your reading.
> 
> How do you guys feel about playlists? Y/N/Stupid?


	16. S01E16 Moon Over Bourbon Street

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **An important warning:** this is the dreadfully awaited ~~Genevieve Chapter~~. If you can't stand to read Klaus with anyone other than Caroline in any capacity, than consider whether you really want to read this. If you do read it, please don't yell at me. I warned you guys this moment would come. Be warned.
> 
> This chapter was not beta'ed, so it'll probably have a lot more mistakes than usual. I apologize beforehand. Also because this chapter was not beta'ed, it means I have no previous reactions to it and have no idea how any of what happens here will be received. lol It's the chapter I most dreaded, so you can imagine the TENSION. Be gentle with me, folks! Please? :(

* * *

They say the passage of time will heal all wounds. But the greater the loss, the deeper the cut, the harder the process to become whole again is. The pain may fade, but scars serve as a reminder of the suffering and make the bearer all the more resolved never to be wounded again.

So as time moves along, we get lost in distractions, act out in frustration, react with aggression... Give in to anger. And all the way, we plot and plan as we wait to grow stronger. Then before we know it, the time passes... We are healed, ready to begin anew.

Except Niklaus seems to be stuck somewhere between distractions and frustrations.

Elijah would be far less preoccupied if his brother had been giving in to anger, as would be expected. Instead, he sulks and mourns in the confinement of his private quarters, rarely ever leaving the house. The outside world hasn't had news of Niklaus in a month, and while he retires into the privacy of his drinks and bad decisions, the world keeps on turning.

The city of New Orleans is a spark away from going up in the air. All around, sensibilities are heightened and nerves, jangled. Wolves, witches, vampires, even humans… Everywhere you look, be it the French Quarter or the Bayou, temperature is rising. With Marcel gone, the city's fine balance is at risk.

Elijah so detests to admit to a misstep, but the truth is he should've probably thought things through before he cast Marcel and his nightwalkers out of the Quarter, perhaps done it so in a more calculated manner. Granted, his own nerves were more than a tad frail then, and he hasn't regretted his decision. But he did not count on his brother becoming a hermit. New Orleans claims for a new king, a strong ruler to keep the city leashed, but the crown's rightful owner seems to want absolutely nothing to do with it. If they continue down this path for much longer, the situation will become unmanageable.

Somebody needs to act to make sure they can all still find peace, otherwise riots will start to break out left and right and soon enough they'll living in a supernatural wild wild west. Unprotected as she is out in the Bayou, a witch carrying a hybrid child, Caroline will be the first to get caught in the crossfire.

She naturally disagrees, insisting that she's better off there than she'd been under the Mikaelson's roof. Elijah cannot fathom how someone like her can live in the swamp, among mongrels and an endless parade of plaid shirts and cowboy boots, but it’s hard to argue when she seems so ordinarily... fine. A lot better than he would ever like to admit. She gets along wonderfully with the werewolves, is very well-adjusted to their routines. Honestly, sometimes it's like she's a wolf herself. Either the baby's having a bigger influence over her than Elijah thought, or... He doesn't even like to think about the other alternative.

Since the Crescents finally broke the curse Marcel had placed on their pack a couple of weeks before, every time Elijah sees Caroline, she has that man, Jackson, hovering around her with a look of sheer adoration about him that has not escaped Elijah's attention. How Niklaus can stand that is just beyond him. Elijah has made sure to emphasize to his brother just how _close_ Caroline and that werewolf seem to have become, and yet all it does is deepen his scowl and further sodden his mood. No action whatsoever. Klaus hasn't spoken to her once since she left their house. Not a phone call, not a text. Nothing. He hides behind a mask of aloofness, pretending to be understanding and accepting of her wishes, but he fools no one. His constant grumpiness and pitiful dejection leave no doubt as to how he truly feels. Caroline's departure has left a hole in their lives, her absence a haunting reminder of all their failings, and no one has felt it more deeply than Klaus. Yet he remains adamant in his refusal to do the decent thing, which would be to grovel at her feet and beg for forgiveness, resorting instead to wasting away in misery and pouting like a toddler - a drunken toddler, that is. And while he favors his pride over sensibility, the mother of his child inches ever closer to the Crescents' alpha.

Klaus was so angry about her proximity to Elijah and now, because of his negligence, his daughter might be born in a swamp, with something close to a caveman as a father figure. It's frankly outrageous. But Elijah should not be the one concerned about it.

He has devised a plan to fix... Well, everything. And it starts with a treaty that will bring together all the factions in the French Quarter. The offer is quite simple: they can all get along well, or they can face the consequences. And by consequences he means his thin-running patience. Everything that's happened has put a rather serious dent in Elijah's penchant for diplomacy. All these months living with his brother again must've rubbed off, after all.

The whole matter would be much facilitated if only Klaus would agree to join him at the meeting today. The sight of his shiny teeth has come to command a kind of authority from the other factions that Elijah's veneer of politeness hasn't.

He is about to go knock on his brother’s door to try and talk him into joining the gathering of factions he's summoned at the church this afternoon when he hears the distinct female voice of a certain witch that has been flaunting her despicable presence around their home lately. It makes Elijah’s stomach roil with aversion.

He stops, takes a deep breath. Understanding what goes through Niklaus' thick head has always been a challenge, but right now he's more of a conundrum than ever. And an astoundingly annoying one at that. Whatever the hell does he think he’s doing with that woman?

Elijah collects the high-heeled shoes discarded right outside Klaus' bedroom and, not bothering to knock, pushes the door open. Genevieve is lying comfortably on the couch, very inappropriately underdressed, while Niklaus buttons up his shirt. Not even noon yet and he has already drank half the house's stash of bourbon and had a viper wrap herself around him. If only he showed this same kind of disposition towards more productive - and less distasteful - activities.

"And you wonder how you cannot shake off your demons. You continue to share a bed with one," Elijah says in a biting tone, glaring at the woman. "I trust you can find the rest of your clothes and the door."

Genevieve grins as though this is all very amusing to her, exchanging a glance with his brother before taking the shoes from his hand and disappearing from sight.

Once it's just the two of them alone, Elijah no longer bothers covering his obvious revulsion for the sake of diplomacy. Genevieve has been conveniently appointed as the head of the French Quarter covens, which means he can’t even be as direct or as blunt as he would want.

"You do recall that... _woman_ ," he spits out the word coated in spite. "Tortured our sister?"

"She also revealed the truth about our sister's treachery," Niklaus retorts.

"And as a consequence, Rebekah is gone forever. And so is the mother of your child."

The mere mention of Caroline makes Niklaus' features twist into an ugly glower, his eyes immediately darkening. He turns his back on Elijah, taking a brush and going back to his paintings. It's been like this for an entire month now; whenever he wants to draw a line under a conversation, he starts painting.

"Our sister apparently harbored that desire for quite some time," Klaus snarls.

"And Caroline?" he presses. "It's been over a month. I feel our sister's loss as deeply as you, but you must stop distracting yourself with this ridiculous behavior and channel it into some kind of positive action. Caroline -"

"Made her own choice," Klaus cuts him off, curtly. "She wasn't my prisoner. If you're so concerned, brother, why don't you go and fetch her yourself?"

Even after all this time, his voice still hasn't lost that biting hostility whenever he mentions her, taunting Elijah about that kiss. If Elijah knew he'd be holding this much grudge for so long, he would've gone ahead and kissed her. At least Niklaus would have something real to be rancorous about and Elijah would've at least had the pleasure of it to be condemned. As it is, he’s being tortured without having committed the crime while they waste their breaths and beat each other up over something that never happened.

"Niklaus, I understand your need to lash out, but I've apologized _profusely_ already and do not know how to acquit myself further. I wasn't thinking, and had I been, I wouldn't have done it, but _nothing happened_ because she wouldn't let me. _She_ wouldn't let me. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

" _She_ isn't here anymore," he replies with a grunt, aggressively attacking the canvas with his brush.

"And you intend to do nothing about it? Would rather straighten your bonds with a snake than make amends with the heavily pregnant woman carrying your offspring?"

"I do not recall asking for your assessment of my personal life, Elijah. I will let you know when I'm in the mood for your nonsense."

Elijah presses his lips tightly together as he holds back a less than polite expletive. Niklaus has been breaking all records when it comes to making him lose his poise. "This... Appalling conduct, this _pathetic_ disregard for the feelings of others, is _exactly_ what drove Caroline away. You may say whatever you want, brother, but I know you desire her safe return to this home as much as I do. You _feel_ her absence more deeply than myself. If there was anything that I could do to make her change her mind, believe me, I would spare no efforts. But alas, I'm not the one she wants to hear from. _You_ have to get her back."

Klaus sends him a wicked look over his shoulder. "So you two can go back to being thick as thieves again? So you'll have your second chance and maybe this time, now that your bastard brother has completely wrecked his every shot with her, you can have her for yourself? I think not. Let her be with the dogs in the bog. At least she's safe."

Elijah sighs. He frankly doesn't know what else he can do to convince Klaus that he does not want to steal Caroline away. He had _one_ moment of weakness, just _one_ in months of very convoluted feelings for that woman, a moment that didn't even amount to anything substantial, and he'll apparently get chastened for it for all eternity. If he could hear the sob stories Elijah tells Caroline about how depressed and helpless and sorry Klaus is since she left, he would know that all Elijah wants is for the two of them to find their way back to each other. His pleas, however, fall on deaf ears when Klaus continues to show nothing but apathy and disregard, at least as far as the rest of the world is concerned. And Elijah hasn't even told Caroline about Genevieve, can’t even imagine what her reaction will be when she finds out. In that sense, it is a blessing she’s removed herself from the French Quarter altogether.

"What about the city, then?" he tries, changing the subject to try and get some kind of response. "The throne you so coveted, for which you threw everything out the window. You have it now. During Marcel's tenure, this city became accustomed to having a king; without one, the balance is starting to fall apart. You must accept the responsibilities that come with taking Marcel's place."

"Apologies, but I'm rather ensconced in other pursuits," he says, dismissively.

Elijah takes the brush out of his brother’s hand, staring him straight in the eye. "If you can so easily neglect your home, I wonder what will become of your daughter. Have you forgotten what it was like to live beneath the threat of violence? We must work together, Niklaus. Let's make the city whole again."

His brother's eyes flash, his expression morphing into something even grimmer than before. "Perhaps it is too broken to mend," he hisses, pushing Elijah out of the way and retrieving his brush.

Well, that's it, then. He tried.

"If you won't do anything," he tells Niklaus. "Then I will."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"You got to try Tucker's ribs," Jackson says, a huge smile plastered on his face. That's pretty much been his default expression for the last week and a half. Caroline has to say, it is very uplifting to be around positive, happy people for a change.

The mood in the camp has completely shifted since her arrival. The squalid, despondent place she'd seen before is a thing of the past. The night she moved in, they were having a kind of low-key celebration at the common cabin, a large wooden construction where they hold their group meetings and events. Every one of the Crescents who could hold a fork was there, and the ones who couldn't were hanging outside, howling merrily to the moon.

Caroline's tip about Celeste had proved true, and they managed to grab a hold of her just before Elijah did. It's hard to understand why that woman would ever want to do anything good to anyone, which makes one wonder what her real intentions were when she decided to help them out and make the counter-spell to break the curse. But since she’s dead, it no longer matters. All that matters is that it worked. All they had to do was wait until the next full moon and drink a potion she'd mixed to make sure the power of the celestial event would be channeled into the magic she'd done.

Caroline was... carefully optimistic. A part of her expected something sketchy to come out of it, thinking that she’d tricked them somehow. But she didn't want to rain on their parade and contaminate them with her gloominess when they had finally found cause for joy. Instead, she focused on research; Elijah brought her some grimoires from the compound and she learned all she could about the ingredients Celeste used on the potion. Caroline had never seen them being combined before, but everything pointed towards it being legit. At the very least, it didn’t seem like it was poisonous. They would only know for sure if Celeste had completed the counter-spell on the next full moon, so there was nothing to do but wait. If it didn't work, they'd have to start thinking about kidnapping Monique next.

But when the full moon finally came and went and Jackson and the others remained in their human forms, the crowd went wild. Last week has basically consisted of celebration after celebration. Jackson talks nonstop, about _everything_ , which can be a little exhausting, but Caroline can sympathize. If she'd spent years trapped in an animal body, she would want to talk until her tongue dropped too. Besides, his boyish excitement about the silliest and smallest of things is kind of endearing. He's a really nice guy.

Unlike Oliver, the douchebag who sold Rebekah out to the witches. Caroline doesn't really know how it went, because he refused to talk to her, just shrugged and walked away when she confronted him, but someone else told her he led Rebekah into the woods, away from everyone else, where other werewolves from a different pack were waiting to attack her. Not like you need much convincing for a wolf to want a bite out of an Original, but still. _Jerkface._ She can barely stand the sight of him, but he and Jackson are thick. The two have been friends since they were kids and, apparently, during the years of their wolfish ordeal, they had each other's backs through some rough patches. It's really the only reason Caroline didn't hex the hell out of that asshole, out of consideration for Jack. But one of these days, if Oliver catches her on a particularly hormonal time, his luck might run out.

Life with the wolves has been quite the ride, she'll say, but much better than she could've ever thought. The fact she's a witch didn't bother them too much - aside from Oliver, of course - since they are, for some reason, incredibly grateful, even though she never tried to take credit for breaking the curse. It was all Eve going after Celeste on her own with a shotgun. But even Eve keeps saying she's the one who _changed everything_ for them, which, frankly, sounds a little too prophetic for Caroline's taste. Then again, that seems to be the general theme surrounding her. They also seem to think her daughter is the promised wolf messiah.

They're having a huge party today, the largest one yet. They invited everyone over, different clans and all, and apparently this Tucker guy cooked these famous ribs Jackson has been raving about for days.

"If it turns out to be not half as good as you've been advertising -"

"Trust me, Tucker does not disappoint," Jackson says as he places the dishes around the huge table they've settled for the banquet.

Caroline chuckles. "Then what? We're gonna go play horseshoes after dinner?"

"Hey, don't mock country living, darling."

"Sorry," she raises her hands in an apology. "I'm just not used to country living."

"You're a town girl through and through, aren't you?"

"Small town, but yes. I even hated camping. But I did grow up running about the woods in Mystic Falls, so there’s that."

"You'll get used to it."

"I'm sure I will. This is just... A lot more family fun than I've had for the past few months. It's a bit... overwhelming."

"Well," he says, looking her straight in the eyes. "Maybe I can help you get used to it."

The earnestness in his gaze is always a bit too much for her. Like she should wait for the other shoes to drop or for Jackson to offer her some kind of deal in exchange for his pack's hospitality and friendship. Six months with the Mikaelsons have made her more cynical than she ever remembers being, it seems.

"Then all we gotta do is just forget she spent half her life with humans and the other half with vampires," Oliver says, butting into their conversation like the nosy bastard that he is.

Caroline bristles, a stiff smile on her face as they stare each other down.

"Ollie, back off," Jackson admonishes, his tone a lot graver than it was a second before.

Caroline flicks her wrist and sends the drink in his hand flying across the room. "You forgot to mention I’m a witch.”

Jackson tries - and fails - to conceal an amused smile. “You two have to cut this off.”

“It’s ok, Jack. If the runt of the litter has got something to say, he should say it."

Ollie snorts. Caroline has taken to mocking his size lately, which is not hard at all to do when she is almost a head taller than him. He barks very loud for such a tiny thing, though.

"You know," he starts. "Word from the Quarter is your boy Elijah is holding some kind of power summit. Guess who wasn't invited."

The mood instantly sours, and even Jackson's smile fades.

They've opened their arms to Caroline around here, but the Original family is still very much despised, even Elijah. And while Caroline chose to remove herself entirely from the politics of faction wars, things have been catching fire all over New Orleans. But the wolves only ever hear it from other people. Elijah holds talks with the witches, the humans and the vampires, but never once came over to discuss the matters of diplomacy with the werewolves. And now that their alpha has been finally returned to his human form, he has no excuses to keep the wolves excluded from his peace treaty discussions.

Caroline _hates_ to be dragged into that kind of thing, but she can't help but feel responsible. Something tells her the fact she's chosen to live in the Bayou instead of at the compound has left Elijah even more biased against the wolves than his vampire nature would normally make. And Klaus, who should have a say in including his own freaking lost family in it, has apparently withered away as a hermit somewhere deep in that house.

No one's heard or seen him in weeks. While Caroline wanted to be left well alone, away from all their drama so she could rest and heal, when it turned out that he wasn't _at all_ interested in getting in touch and, more importantly, _apologizing_ for being a royal ass, she was more than a little hurt. That he hasn't even texted to ask about his own child just makes her _so_ annoyed. Elijah is probably giving him reports on absolutely everything, but still. His total disregard speaks volumes. Apparently, he just doesn't care at all that she's not there anymore. Might even be glad to have dodged a bullet. She wouldn’t put it past Elijah to embellish his sob stories about how bad his brother’s doing just to soften her up. Needless to say, it’s not working.

Still, her close connections to the Mikaelsons raise eyebrows around the camp and every time someone mentions Elijah or Klaus - always with clear revulsion - eyes turn to find her. Like she's some kind of emissary from the Original family. Caroline never had any say whatsoever in what they do while she was still living with them, let alone now.

No one's asked her for anything, Jackson never even dared to suggest that she should talk to them, but it might be the only way Elijah will actually _listen_ to the wolves. It's pathetic, because she's not even one of them, but her daughter is. And if Klaus' head is too far up his own ass for him to give a shit, someone should.

"Where did you hear that?" she asks Oliver.

"It doesn't matter," he shrugs. "The point is that we're stuck here living in the swamp while your vampire boyfriends are deciding who gets what in the city." Ollie raises his eyebrows at them, and Caroline fists her hand not to smash the smirk off his face. "But I guess that shows how much respect they've got for the werewolves, huh?"

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Eye rolls, Elijah thinks, are so very beneath him, but it’s almost inevitable, given the predicament he currently finds himself in.

With everyone snarling and screaming like a bunch of uncivilized baboons, he almost regrets having invited them to the table instead of simply issuing out orders. It's what Niklaus would've done. Elijah has always complained about his brother's authoritarian ways, but perhaps the threat of violence really is the only language these people understand. His disposition for dialogue has left them under the impression that they are to rule the city, rather than answer to a higher - and greater - power.

And the yelling is starting to hurt the delicate sensibilities of his super hearing, to be honest.

" _Gentlemen_ ," Elijah roars, his voice booming across the church and quieting down the disorder. "And ladies," he adds, once all eyes are on him. "Thank you. Now..."

He pushes his chair back and stands to his feet, looking down on all the people around the table Father Kieran so kindly set for their meeting, although the effect the holy ground was expected to provide has been so far slight. His brother's newest concubine brought a male witch Elijah had never had the displeasure of meeting until today. Diego, now representing all vampires, came with Dora, whom Elijah vaguely recalls from all the loitering they used to do at the compound. Kieran attends as the sole representative of the human faction, but his boisterous voice certainly compensates for the lack of company.

Definitely not the most remarkable group of people Elijah's ever held discussions with or had around a table. But beggars can't be choosers. Or... Something.

"These," he says, lifting an old-looking piece of paper. "Are the rules of the city according to Marcel Gerard." Elijah tears the paper in two and throws it away. "Which of course no longer apply because I am the one in charge now."

"You said if we came along then we would get to run things by ourselves," Diego protests. "Never mentioned anything about making yourself king."

"Well, you were each selected to represent your own communities, and I will honor that. But you seem to have misunderstood the situation here. There's a leader, and that is me. Any issues which arise between factions will have to come to me." Elijah allows them a second to absorb the information before continuing. "Now, we are all to some extent responsible for the current chaos in the city. However, you have one very, very simple choice ahead of you here. You can all play nicely together, or you can leave. I will not tolerate insubordination, provocations or the kind of appalling behavior we saw here on this very table. It's exactly because of that we are in this mess to begin with. Questions?"

He looks each and every one of the presents in the eye, lingering slightly longer on Genevieve. He may not know what his brother expects to achieve by philandering with that witch, but Niklaus is not as subtle as he would like to believe. At least not to Elijah. That awful affair is neither gratuitous, nor born out of affection; he wants something from her. And Elijah suspects the machination might be mutual. She's using Klaus right back. To what end is what he aims to find out.

"Good. Now, returning to the issue of boundaries, you will all heed to the following."

"Aren't you forgetting anyone?"

All heads whip around to the back of the church. Elijah can't mask his surprise at the sight of Caroline. They were all screaming so loud he didn't even hear her approaching. This is the first time she sets foot in the French Quarter since her departure a month before - that he knows of, anyway. It's safe to say she was the last person he expected to see breaking into their meeting. Even a sudden appearance by Niklaus wouldn't have been as unforeseen.

She approaches the table with slow steps, her blue gaze, sharp and unwavering, never leaving Elijah. It doesn't escape him how majestic she looks with her hair catching the light coming in through the church's high windows, her chin held high. Confident and determined. It's... distracting.

"You're diving up the city and the werewolves don't even get a say?" she asks, crossing her arms on top of her swollen stomach.

A ripple of uncertainty runs across the table.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Diego demands.

"Diego, sit," Elijah says, motioning for him to remain in his place. "We are not dividing the city," he starts, calmly. "We're establishing boundaries -"

"No, Elijah," Caroline cuts him off. "There is not gonna be peace - _real_ peace - if the werewolves are excluded. This is their city, too. They want a seat at the table." Diego scoffs loudly, and Genevieve shakes her head. Caroline glares at both of them, and then her eyes return to Elijah with even more fire. "And if they don't get one, I can guarantee that you will all regret it."

 

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The party is over almost as soon as Caroline arrives. She's frankly disappointed. It would be a _great_ opportunity to give some of them a little piece of her mind.

When she finishes delivering her speech - which she had hoped to only have to deliver to Elijah, not to a room full of people she holds in very low regard and who likely feel the same way about her, with the exception of Father Kieran - there's a second's pause, and then the place erupts in uproar. Everyone stands to their feet, pointing fingers and yelling - mostly at Elijah, but at her as well. It seems the one thing all these assholes can agree on is that they all despise the wolves.

All the more reason for Caroline to like her new friends.

Elijah pressed his lips into a fine line, _fuming_ , a white-knuckled grip on the back of the chair whilst everyone spoke their minds. It was hard to even understand what was being said, but honestly, Caroline couldn't care less. They were obviously not saying anything that interested her. So let them yelp away. It won't change anything.

The witches are the first to march out, all indignation. Then Diego and his lady vampire friend flash away, slamming the church's door behind them like rebellious teenagers. When he senses the thick tension in the air between Elijah and Caroline, Father Kieran calmly excuses himself, retreating into his private quarters at the back of the church.

Caroline crosses her arms again, bracing herself for the reprimand she knows she'll get.

"Do you have any idea what it took just to get those people in one room together?" Elijah asks, barely containing his irritation.

"No, actually, I don't. Because I didn't even know what you were doing out here until someone else told me."

"I thought you didn't want to be brought into the city's politics."

"I don't. But it's not like I have a choice. My connection to your family means I get stared at every time something like this happens in the Quarter."

"Then perhaps you should take your grievances up to Jackson Kenner, make it clear to him that you have absolutely nothing to do with any French Quarter businesses."

"Don't I, though? Are you _really_ sure that I don't?" she narrows her eyes at him. "Why did you leave the werewolves out? Is it because you blame Jackson for what happened at the plantation house?"

"That's ridiculous."

"Or maybe it's because I'm living with them now."

"I excluded them because they no longer reside in the French Quarter," he says, very solemnly. "My immediate concern is to end the mounting conflict _here_. Now, I can assure you, once this treaty is solidified, it will expand to include the wolves."

"And until then you expect me to tell them what? Sit? Stay? Roll over?" she bites out.

"I would prefer that you remove yourself from the process altogether." Elijah speaks with real heat in his voice now, escalating in a way Caroline had never heard before. Not addressed to her, anyway.

She's momentarily thrown, but it only lasts a moment before annoyance settles in. She grinds her teeth, giving him a hard look.

"You're lucky I haven't _removed_ myself from the process. If Jackson and Oliver had been here today, you can rest assured you'd have a lot more problems than just a bunch of pouty faces walking out on you."

"They're not your people, Caroline," he speaks in a slow, measured tone.

"No, they're not. But they're your brother's, and my daughter's," she snaps. "I don't want to be speaking for them, but they have taken me in and treated me cordially and I _owe_ it to them to defend their interests, especially against people who have tried to see me dead. It's interesting that you would rather sit with Genevieve, after everything she's done, than to have an honest conversation with Jackson."

Elijah has the decency of looking awkward, gazing away from her.

"Caroline..." he breathes out, approaching her. "Are you entirely sure that you shouldn't return to the compound?"

She huffs out a laugh. "Really? What is Klaus' opinion on that?"

"You know he -"

"I don't know anything. I haven't heard from your brother in over a month," she says, hating the edge on her voice. "You think the compound is where the baby will be safe?"

"Is the Bayou any better?"

 _Yes_ , Caroline wants to say, but the truth is... She doesn't know that either. Every day, more packs arrive. Jackson is thrilled to see so many werewolves coming together, thinks it's a sign that the baby is already uniting their people so they'll have a fighting chance against the ones who will see them isolated and weakened. As much as Caroline can agree that they _should_ be allowed to fight for their rights, she honestly hopes push doesn't come to shove. The kind of expectation they deposit on her baby over there isn't any more reassuring than Elijah's. Saving the werewolves or saving Klaus. It’s hard to tell which is more unattainable.

For the sake of everyone, including her daughter's, she really wishes Elijah's peace treaty bear fruits and they can find some common ground for all the factions - _including_ the werewolves. If anyone has a chance of making it work, it's Elijah and Caroline has faith in him. But only _if_ he's willing to put down his petty resentments and invite the Bayou people to the grown ups' table.

"They've suffered enough, Elijah. No one has paid a higher price in this city's wars than the werewolves. They've just broken out of their curse. If you really want to make things different from Marcel's era, then the wolves deserve a voice," she says. "Give them one. You know it's the right thing to do."

She turns on her heels and marches out of the church.

It's weird, talking to Elijah like this, handling him as though he were just anyone, rather than a friend. As content as she is in the Bayou, and as quickly as she's adapted to life among the werewolves, she'd be lying if she said she doesn't miss the French Quarter. The music, the people, the smell of fresh beignets always in the air. It's a completely different atmosphere than life in the countryside.

And as grateful as she is to the wolves, to Eve and Jackson... She misses Elijah, too. And Klaus. God, she _really_ misses that idiot. And she tries _so hard_ not to. Just thinking about him hurts. Caroline's no stranger to heartbreak, has had _several_ over the course of her short life. But somehow this feels... More. Worse, in ways. They're going to have a baby, for god's sake.

As she exits the church and climbs into Jackson's truck - it is getting _really_ uncomfortable to drive - an idea occurs to her.

She kept her distance for an entire month, and Elijah is always saying how pitifully depressed Klaus is... Honestly, she thought she'd find him here today. It's kind of shocking that someone is taking the reins over the city and Klaus is just... Letting it happen. It makes her wonder if maybe Elijah really is telling the truth after all. And in any case, she really wanted to borrow some grimoires to do some research for a few spells that might be useful at the camp. So she could stop by Rousseau's to say hi to Cami, and since she'll be in the neighborhood...

Well. The compound is just around the corner, anyway.

 

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Genevieve seems to be operating under some kind of misconception, and it's frankly starting to become rather bothersome.

When she showed up at his home, all sultry lips and ill-concealed lust, Klaus spotted an opportunity.

Officially, she said she was there to see that he was ok and apologize for any harm she might have caused him. _"I never had any vendettas against you. It was only your sister I wished to expose."_ Well, Klaus can at least appreciate the cynicism.

He never bought her excuses, of course. It's obvious she wants something and thinks that sweet-talking him is the way to get it. He has a strong suspicion of what it might be, based on her not-so-subtle constant adulation of his mother. Genevieve wants to get her skeevy little hands on the Original witch's grimoire. To what end, he's yet to discover. But it just so happens that Esther's grimoire is at the heart of what Klaus needs from her. He would’ve never taken this route himself, but there wasn't a better time for her to have decided to bat her eyelashes at him. They might yet come to a mutually beneficial agreement.

Ever since the showdown at the cemetery, no one has seen Klaus leaving the compound, but that does not mean he hasn't been working towards building a better city. While Elijah pulls at his hair to get everyone to sit down and discuss propositions, Klaus has, as always, taken a more direct approach to matters. Starting with luring Genevieve to his side. He's no Elijah, with his fancy speeches and Hollywoodian style, but Klaus can conceal his rougher edges when he wants to, and he's never had any trouble filling his bed. While Genevieve no doubt showers Elijah with absurd demands and imposes all sorts of obstacles to his peace treaty, Klaus has found better uses for her mouth. Not only does it keep her quiet, it also keeps her satiated and quite manageable. His brother is too moral to understand that the quickest ways to seal a deal are violence and pleasure. Klaus happens to excel at both.

With a powerful, compliant witch by his side, and one who now controls the entire coven as their last remaining elder, Klaus can move forward with his plan. But it won't be easy to get Genevieve on board. And before he can even try to talk her into it, he needs to understand exactly what it is that he'll need from her. That's the trickiest part, in fact. He doesn't know yet.

He's been dedicating a lot of his time lately towards unraveling the mystery of the ring Elijah found with one of his distant relatives in the Bayou. The one who used to belong to his mother and that was, allegedly, gifted to what Klaus assumes was his biological father, if there's any truth to the myth. There was a spell on Esther's grimoire that caught his attention a long time ago, but Klaus never really managed to figure it out. He is fluent in dozens of languages, even some that no longer exist, but never quite mastered witchcraft gibberish. Not for the first time, he finds himself regretting not having shown more interest for practicing magic back in the day. If only Kol was still alive...

The little he does understand, however, tells him the spell was designed to enchant a stone, much like the lapis lazuli works for the daylight rings, and that it involves channeling the power of a celestial event. Such as the full moon. The gaps lie in what precisely the spell is supposed to do, and what kind of stone it requires. But when he remembered that ring Elijah found, it occurred to him... What if the Original witch, aside from creating daylight rings for her children, also created a moonlight ring for her lover? If daylight rings keep vampires from burning under the sun, perhaps moonlight rings could keep werewolves from turning into beasts every full moon, all the while maintaining access to their powers, to make sure they'd be strong enough to fight whatever threats came their way - a betrayed Viking husband, for instance.

If Klaus is right about this, he could get Genevieve to make moonlight rings for the Crescent wolves in the Bayou. It would give him the next best thing after a hybrid army, and it would make sure they could effectively keep Caroline and the child protected.

Besides, if the wolves get that kind of power, it will certainly guarantee them their spot back on the grown ups' table, restoring the balance between factions in the French Quarter.

It's _perfect_.

If only there weren't still so many steps before he can actually get to the manufacturing of the rings. First, he needs to figure what exactly the spell demands and what kind of stone that ring used to carry. Lapis Lazuli isn’t so common, but the extreme demand means the supernatural world never runs out of it. Moonlight rings, however, are unheard of. Depending on what Esther used to bind the spell, it could be hard to come upon all the ingredients in sufficient quantity. And then there's the problem of Genevieve. Klaus has been laying the groundwork, doing everything he can to sweeten her disposition and make her more _open_ to negotiations, so to speak. If it's his mother's grimoire she wants to take a look at, it can be arranged. Convincing a witch to empower the werewolves, whom her coven cursed for decades, is what promises to be the tricky part.

If only there was a trustworthy witch with a soft spot for the wolves he could count on...

Klaus has considered approaching Caroline with his plan a few times. She's the obvious choice, and he doubts she would turn him down. The way she's become attached to them... He can't help the jab of jealousy. She smiles so easily when she's with them. Seems so relaxed, so comfortable... It's a world of distance from what she was like while she was at the compound. Always tense, annoyed, unhappy about something - or someone, more likely. Caroline would do anything in her power to help them, even talk to the last person she probably wants to see in the whole world right now. But bringing her into it defeats the whole purpose.

The reason why Klaus is even entertaining this _arrangement_ with Genevieve is so he won't have to involve Caroline further. She's been through enough. Forging these rings might be dangerous. It is certain to enrage the other factions, all of which have always despised the wolves. If they catch wind of what Klaus is trying to do before they're ready to do it, they'll retaliate, do whatever they can to stop it, and if Caroline's in the way... No. He won't allow it. He's doing this to keep her safe, not to have her killed.

Klaus has learned his lesson the hardest possible way. Rebekah's betrayal and Caroline's departure left emptiness in him he doesn't think will end any time soon. Seeing Caroline in pain, scared, and knowing it was his fault, broke him. He went to find Camille the very next day following her departure and, after getting thoroughly chided, the bartender seemed to take some pity on his anguish and assured him Caroline had seen a doctor and that the baby would be ok. _"But she needs rest, Klaus. Peace. Quiet. Or it could happen again and she could go into labor. So if you care about her and your child at all, let her be."_

It was the hardest thing he ever had to do, but Camille wasn't wrong. It wasn't hard to figure out where she'd taken refuge; Klaus has eyes everywhere. Resisting the temptation to go to her was difficult, but it got easier with time - and a few reinforced daily doses of liquor.

Of course he couldn't stay completely away. Elijah's meager reports on her well-being were not enough. Caroline doesn't know it, and neither does anyone else, but he's been there. He's seen her. And in spite of how much he's wanted to speak to her, hold her, apologize for his temper, for being so jealous... He decided to heed Camille's advice and let her be. If being in the Bayou is what she truly wants, if it brings her peace, then, just this once, he'll respect her wishes. He would do anything to never see that terrified look on her face again, even keep his distance.

This isn’t to say he isn’t soured by her close proximity to those wolves, especially to their alpha, Jackson Kenner. Just thinking about it makes him piqued. But, at least for now, Klaus hopes to be, for once, doing the right thing.

And it's precisely to preserve Caroline and keep her as blissfully oblivious as possible to yet another French Quarter intrigue that he can't do what he truly wants and kick Genevieve out the second she's not making herself useful anymore.

That woman sure likes to talk.

The first time it happened, it was out of a sense of opportunity, yes, but it was also a quick way to work out a lot of the mounting frustration Klaus had been harboring for weeks. And anyway, Genevieve isn't hard to look at and she was obviously interested. Almost eight months without sex was a lot more than he's used to. Vampires and werewolves are physical creatures, and he happens to be a combination of both. It just felt like a good opportunity to... Unwind.

It was almost... angry. More relieving than it was pleasurable. The kind of thing that brings him no satisfaction. This has remained unchanged since. Right or wrong, and Klaus can agree that she had compelling reasons, Genevieve hurt his sister, set fire to a house with Caroline in it - although she swears by everything holy and sacred that they were never going to let her die. _"It was just to get your brother distracted. We would've kept the fire away from her. I wish her no harm. She’s a witch, too."_ Well, the house was burned to the ground, so he isn't too sure how truthful she is on that regard.

Klaus would rather know the truth about Rebekah, but sometimes he wishes he never did. He's not grateful to Genevieve, nor does he feel indebted. He just... Doesn't blame her for having sought revenge. Anyone in her position would’ve done the same. If his sister had never set out to betray her own blood, none of that would've happened. If Genevieve had _personally_ tried to kill or hurt Rebekah, things would be different. But since she let Klaus decide her fate... That earned her points, for sure. Nobody touches his family and lives. Then again, she probably knows that, which is precisely why she didn't. Genevieve is smart. Way too smart, perhaps. Sly. Untrustworthy. Keep your friends close, etc., etc...

While they're doing it, Klaus can just disconnect his mind from everything. Focus on the sensations, rather than the feelings. For a resurrected witch who lived her mortal life as a prude, Genevieve's come back with quite an interesting set of skills and very little inhibitions, which he can certainly appreciate. But to her great misfortune, the memory of the last person Klaus had laid with before her is still only too vivid in his mind. And every time, when they're done, Klaus is flooded with a deep melancholy. Something is just... missing. The sex is fine, if a little boring, Genevieve is pretty and definitely enthusiastic, but... She feels wrong.

The only woman Klaus truly wants to be with is out in the Bayou being joyful with her new overexcited friends while he's having miserable sex with a witch he hates. This is his very definition of torture.

He is turning out to be a better actor than he thought, though, because he was certain that the struggle was written all over his face every time he rolled away from her and got out of bed almost immediately after, but Genevieve keeps showing up, all eager and yearning. Either he's the best she's ever had - which he can't blame her; he _is_ truly gifted, even when he's hardly putting any effort into it - or she's really that desperate for the grimoire - in which case, it makes him even more curious about what she seeks to find there.

Either way, this _arrangement_ has not been without its costs, and it is frankly starting to get on his nerves, especially since he can't just boot her off. His life would be made so much easier if she were to develop a crush on his brother. Why is it only the women he actually wants who seem to take notice of Elijah?

He was concentrated on a painting, one he's been working on for weeks now, and never seems to be quite done with. Every time he thinks he's there, he realizes there's something missing. And just when he thought he'd made a breakthrough... Genevieve showed up. Again.

Klaus never thought easy sex could be such a burden.

Why can't it be just about sex? Has she no grasp over the concept of _casual_? It ceases to be satisfying unless they part ways right after. He doesn't want to lie between sheets and hear pillow talk. All he wants is a little relief and a little silence. Is that too much to ask for?

Apparently, she just came out of Elijah's council meeting and she has _opinions_. Whatever made her think that Klaus would be the most appropriate person to come vent to, he has no idea. What part of his recluse, depressed artist cover escapes her?

"Your absence was sorely felt at the new meeting," Genevieve says as she, none too subtly, takes off her top.

Klaus sighs, keeps his eyes firmly trained on his painting, hoping she’ll take a hint. It is a true sign of just how chafed and indifferent he's become that the sight of a woman's bosom being spontaneously offered to him inspires nothing but boredom. "Elijah has always been the diplomat in the family," he says.

"Diplomat? More like a dictator."

"Oh?" Klaus arches his eyebrows, his interest slightly piqued. "Do tell."

"He wants us to play nice, _or else_. He took it upon himself to split up the city and tell us where we can or cannot go." Klaus' lips twist into a light grin. He's almost proud of his brother. Perhaps they're more alike than anyone thought. "I'm not sure how successful his first endeavor as self-appointed administrator will turn out to be. There were far too many questions and he failed to provide any satisfying answers. I don't think anybody left that meeting happy." She makes a pause. "Not even Caroline." Klaus goes very stiff all of a sudden, but manages to keep his face carefully blank. Genevieve huffs out a mirthless laugh. "You should've seen his face when she walked in."

"What was Caroline doing there?" he asks as casually as he can, mixing the inks on his palate with a little too much intent.

"Delivering a message from the mongrels in the Bayou."

"She's not one of them."

"Apparently she's allowed to speak for them. And they want a seat at our table."

Her clearly vexed tone doesn't bode well for Klaus' intentions. If she feels like this just to allow the wolves to participate on their little tea party, what will she feel like about giving them the power to actually make threats?

"Why not?" he asks absently. "Having a seat at the table guarantees nothing. They'd probably get outvoted anyway. It just gives the idea of democracy."

He feels Genevieve's breath on the back of his neck, then her hands snaking around his waist. "Do you believe this can actually work?" she murmurs, her lips close to his ear. For all her cynicism, her question sounds sincere. Perhaps even someone like Genevieve, who spent a hundred years harboring nothing but revenge and acrimony, can wish for a better life. "That we can finally have some semblance of peace in this city?"

Before he has a chance to answer, he hears the distinctive sound of quick footsteps approaching. It can't be Elijah because his brother moves like a ghost. No one else has been circulating around the compound since Elijah kicked them all out, Genevieve aside.

Could it be...?

"I was in the neighborhood and decided to stop by to -"

Klaus' heart skips a beat, then slams forward. Genevieve moves away from her perch behind him, and Klaus hesitates, pretending to distract himself with cleaning his ink-stained hands with a cloth. He presses his eyes shut, cursing his bad luck. Genevieve hasn't been around that much, although Elijah makes it sound as though she's moved in with his incessant complaints. And yet she happens to be here on the one day Caroline decides to come out of the swamp.

When he finally whirls around, he finds Caroline's face pulled into an expression that says she's both deeply offended and borderline mortified, gaping in a way that would be comical if Klaus hadn't gone cold at the sight of her.

The first time they come face to face in a month and Genevieve is right there, half-naked between them.

Caroline’s eyes rake over Genevieve, and then return to Klaus, the shock giving place to a scowl, her gaze snapping fire.

"Seriously?" she bites out, a quiet fury simmering underneath her words.

"You should've called," he says, schooling his face into nonchalance and sticking up his chin. "Genevieve. We need a moment, please."

"Fine. I have places to be anyway." She puts her shirt back on, grabs her purse and simply walks out.

Caroline crosses her arms. Only now, from up close, he can see how her belly has grown in the last month. She looks... Radiant. Beautiful. Not even over a month in the Bayou and the obvious anger radiating off of her have dimmed her shine. Or perhaps it's just that his life has been filled with so much darkness since she left that the mere sight of her feels luminous, even though she's clearly ready to stake him.

"Have you no shame?" she demands through grit teeth.

"Caroline -"

"That _woman_ is the reason Rebekah is gone. She's part - actually, no. She's the _head_ of the group that's been plotting against you and your family - against your _unborn child_ \- since the day you arrived here."

"Well, New Orleans breeds nothing if not strange bedfellows," he says mindlessly, looking away from her. He doesn't have a good excuse, none that would make a difference to her, anyway. And, truth be told, despite his shame, there's perhaps a little part of him feeling vindicated to see her this furious. At least now she knows how he felt when he saw her getting cozy with _his brother_. "I assume you're not here to question my leisure activities. What brings you out of the swamp?"

Klaus is sure he sees a flash of bitter hurt in her eyes before it gets masked by the anger again. He feels a pang of guilt. "You know what? Never mind. It's not worth it."

Caroline storms out like a hurricane, and again Klaus is left with that sense of emptiness at the pit of his stomach.

He just can't win. Even if he gets everything he wants - the city, control of the witches, enough moonlight rings to arm the entire population of werewolves in the Bayou... As long as Caroline looks at him like that, victory will always taste like ashes in his mouth.

 

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Elijah quietly sips on his drink, allowing himself a rare moment of peace in a rather troubled day.

He was prepared for the petty qualms and meaningless altercations that gathering all the city's factions would certainly bring. What he wasn't ready for was Caroline's less than convenient interference. Not only did it put an end to the meeting, it also got Elijah thinking about morals and ethics. It's his least favorite thing to do nowadays. The _right thing to do_ has never felt so much like a hindrance. He's often found himself wishing he really could be more like Niklaus. It would save him so much stress.

Caroline wasn't wrong, and that was the bad part. The werewolves do deserve to get a say. Elijah is just not sure he wants to give it to them. They've been excluded from the French Quarter and its fine politics for years now, have every reason to hold a grudge against all the other groups, all of which have grown accustomed to the larger share of control the wolves’ banishment from the city granted them. Not to mention... Elijah's not feeling particularly charitable towards them at the moment, for more... personal reasons. Caroline wasn't wrong about that either.

Now all the small progress they've made has been compromised and he'll need to address the wolf issue more directly than he was expecting to at this stage. If he continues to leave them out, it'll be an open declaration against them. And if he decides to invite them in... Well.

He could _really_ use Niklaus' input.

At the moment, though, he's waiting for someone at a rather nondescript location. A bar he’d never been to before, just a little outside the French Quarter.

When Francesca Correa called him, asking for a _word_ about something that was _very much_ of his interest, Elijah was mildly curious.

She's a prominent figure in the city, but not one that usually gets involved in supernatural business. Although, as it would be expected of someone with her connections, she's obviously in on the worst-kept secret in the world.

What makes her even more interesting is the fact she's a straight-out gangster.

Elijah and Niklaus dealt with many like her back in the day, when they used to control the ports and every major access to the city. For whatever reason, Elijah thought times had changed around New Orleans. Apparently not.

"Mr. Mikaelson," the elegant woman with long hair and eyes as dark as the night says, her lips curling up into an assured smile as she saunters over to him.

Francesca Correa takes a seat beside him, taps her hand once on the bar and almost immediately a drink is placed in front of her. She holds herself with the confidence of one who's not used to being crossed.

"Ms. Correa."

"Please, call me Francesca."

"We can dispense with any formalities, Ms. Correa. I know exactly who you are." She arches an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "You own the Palace Royale casino. You're one of the city's lead philanthropists. And according to my sources you're the matriarch to a rather sizeable drug trafficking empire." Elijah takes another sip from his drink. "As you can imagine, I’m a very busy man. So why don't you tell me why I'm here?"

"Whatever you may think of me, my family has been a part of the human faction for years. Which makes me uniquely qualified to take Father Kieran's place at your council."

"Oh? Care to enlighten me?"

"Do you really want a _priest_ ahead of the kind of relations it will certainly take to keep this city under control? You know exactly what I'm talking about. Kieran doesn't have the support you might imagine. His church was closed for years. He certainly doesn't have the best interests of _everyone_ in his heart. So you'll deal with me from now on."

Elijah peers at her studiously, holding back a smile. "Are you giving me a mandate?"

Francesca laughs, shakes her head. He has the distinct feeling of being played - and also of being seduced. He has to say, it's quite interesting to see someone give him an ultimatum and a lecherous smile almost on the same breath. "No," she drawls. "I'm giving you an ally. I want peace just as much as you do. My lifestyle - which I enjoy very much - depends on it."

Elijah grins. "Yes, I can see you're highly motivated."

"You know, I should mention. I've already spoken to the city's new mayor, the chief of police and other interested parties. And I have their blessing. I think you'll find it beneficial to have me on your side, even if it's just to prevent my less... Civil brothers," she says, looking over Elijah's shoulder. He's felt their eyes on him ages ago. "From lashing out in ways that... Could prove painful to you."

Francesca's eyes flash dangerously, and suddenly all that façade of politeness disappears. She has to know what he is, and that he can't be threatened the way other lesser vampires can. Not even removing his daylight ring would be enough to kill him, and Niklaus is even more impervious to such perils. But there is someone who, despite not being without her own strengths and ways of protecting herself, perfectly capable of snapping the neck of someone like Francesca with a flick of her wrist, is still mortal.

She's threatening Caroline.

"Have another drink. On me," she says, throwing a few crumpled bills over the counter before leaving the bar.

As if Elijah’s life wasn’t sufficiently complicated already.

 

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The rain outside has inspired Klaus.

Suddenly he sees very clearly that what his painting is missing is a dash of blue.

After Caroline's visit the day before, all he could paint was red. The only color he could see. Klaus ruined three canvases by accidentally stabbing them while being too rough with his brushes. Then he drank himself into stupor, before he ruined any more perfectly fine materials or ended up doing something he would invariably regret. Like chasing after Caroline like a dog.

At least Genevieve had the decency of staying away. He hopes she doesn't decide to show up for a good many days at least. Seeing her would immediately send him back into the worst of his moods. It's not her fault, but what can he say? Klaus has a terrible habit of projecting.

Besides, if what he wanted was a girlfriend perched on his shoulder all the time, she would definitely not be the one he'd go for.

He chooses a brush and a particular shade of blue, and when he turns back to his work, Elijah is there, arms crossed over his chest and an expression of infinite pain on his face.

"Not a fan of cerulean blue?" Klaus asks.

"Not a fan of your continued indifference," he speaks around a sigh.

"I heard of your meeting," he speaks conversationally, mixing white with the blue to lighten up the shade just a tad. "Don't beat yourself up too hard. It's difficult trying to unite a community that has a history of mutual loathing."

"Then your advice is more necessary than ever, seeing as you've obviously found a way of overcoming your differences with someone who's plotted your family's demise for months."

Klaus shakes his head, testing his mixture on a piece of paper. "You know, brother, I would've thought that my involvement with Genevieve would make you happy. Leaves you a clear path, doesn't it?"

"How long are you going to keep saying that, Niklaus? Because if that's the excuse you tell yourself to allow Caroline to live in the swamp, then you have obviously not been paying attention."

Klaus feels the stab of anger again recalling his encounter with Caroline. He hasn't told Elijah about it, and he doesn't intend to. The last thing he needs right now is his traitorous brother giving him a lecture on betrayal. The sheer hypocrisy of it is more than he can stomach at the moment.

"I'll offer a perspective, then," he starts, turning back to face Elijah. "If you want peace, you must begin with the werewolves. One hundred years ago they had a run at ruling this city. As of late, all they've had is time to watch their enemies tear down that legacy."

"All the more reason why their enemies are reluctant to bring them to the table. I do wonder, however, what your personal investment in this would be?"

Klaus shrugs. "Perhaps I just want peace. They are, after all, a part of my clan. And, as you so kindly remind me at least once a day, my child's mother has taken a liking to them. Having them as allies will only keep her and my daughter safe." He punctuates his sentence with a smile, but Elijah's eyes only sparkle in suspicion.

"And how to you propose I do that?"

Klaus puts a hand on his shoulder. "Take a page from Bienville, brother. If the table is the obstacle... Remove the table." He gives Elijah an encouraging squeeze and then moves to pour them a drink. It is, surprisingly, his first today. "Do you recall in 1720, the Governor's desperation to secure our help to build the city’s first levees? We sat with him and refused his offer. And so he plied us with wine..." He offers his brother a glass. "... corseted women and raucous camaraderie until he had his yes."

 _Ah, yes._ Klaus smiles, reminiscing. They were quite different beasts back in the 1700s. Much easier to amuse. He cannot imagine himself - and least of all Elijah - ever being tempted by the promise of beautiful women and good booze nowadays. Elijah has become way too pompous and proper for that. In his case... It has more to do with a certain blonde witch that has somehow made everyone else lose their spark in comparison. It's quite annoying, now that he thinks about it. Life was remarkably simpler back then.

Of course the times have changed, and not just for them. But the spirit is what counts. And Elijah seems to capture exactly what he means, narrowing his eyes to slits as a mischievous smile breaks onto his face.

"Niklaus," he says. "Are you suggesting that I throw a party?"

 

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"I'm impressed, brother," Niklaus says as they overlook the crowded courtyard.

Attendance is certainly a success. Everyone who received an invitation has turned up. Vampires, witches, humans, even the werewolves. If there's one thing Mikaelsons definitely excel at, besides family feuds, it's at throwing parties. Theirs are always lavishing, memorable affairs.

Even with very little time, Elijah has indeed managed to make something grandiose. And, so far, it's all going rather smoothly. Only the sounds of laughter and good hearted conversations travel over the loud music. The food and the booze are also, obviously, of the highest quality. So there really is no excuse for anyone to be miserable.

He only hopes they remain well behaved.

"Yes," he agrees, a little proud of himself. "Now, if I can just keep them from tearing one another to shreds."

"Well, for your sake, here's to a spectacularly boring evening." He puts his glass up in a toast and Elijah clinks his champagne flute against his brother's before they both drink.

Things haven’t been this amicable between them since the completion of the Harvest ritual. It's a promising start if the two of them are getting along.

They turn back to the courtyard, both sets of eyes locked on the arched entrance where the guests are arriving. Elijah doesn't have to ask to know his brother is waiting to see the same blonde head walking in. Caroline told him she'd be here, but there’s no sign of her yet. Her wolf friends, however, have arrived, and it's them exactly that Elijah catches a glimpse of as Diego bumps into one of them. A short little grouchy man by the name of Oliver. Not the nicest of people, according to Caroline, but apparently Jackson Kenner's right-hand man.

"What's up, little man?" Diego teases as Oliver stares him - well, not down, seeing as Diego is considerably taller.

"Come on, Ollie," Jackson says, pulling his friend away. "He's not even worth it."

The wolves turn their backs on Diego, who shoots daggers at them until they disappear from sight.

Elijah sighs. "Well, here we go."

He goes down the stairs, mingling with the crowd, avoiding Francesca Correa's packed looks as he tries to find Diego. He's knocking back a glass of bourbon, looking way too on edge for so early in the night.

"Diego," Elijah says, smiling when the other man turns around. "You will be polite and welcoming."

"Yeah, see. His people killed my whole family," he starts, pointing to where Oliver is staring right back at them with challenge in his eyes. "My sister bled out on the floor right next to me. The only reason I'm standing here is because Marcel came along and turned me before I bled out too. So I'm telling you right now I cannot be polite and welcoming to that."

Elijah looks at him very solemnly. He understands Diego's frustration a lot better than he imagines. Oliver is the one behind Rebekah's ambush. If Elijah didn't think there would be severe consequences, he would have wiped that despicable smugness off the man’s face himself.

"I understand your anger," he says. "But there are certain overtures that need to be made if we are to find a certain degree of peace. I hope I can count with your collaboration tonight."

He arches his eyebrows at the very indignant vampire and exchanges his empty champagne flute for a new one from a passing waiter before he goes to find his next target. Honestly, the night's barely started and already Elijah feels like a babysitter.

He spots Jackson by the fountain.

"Welcome to my home," he says, shaking the other man's hand.

"I wouldn't be here if Caroline hadn't forced the issue."

"Yes, it's rather unlikely that you'll experience an outpouring of kind sentiment here. The vampires in particular view you as..." Elijah narrows his eyes, giving Jackson an appraising once over. "Well, barbaric."

Jackson’s strained grin does not meet his eyes. "Caroline tells me this peace treaty is important to you."

"Yes, it certainly is. So much so, in fact, that if anyone threatened to dismantle what I'm building here, I'd destroy everything they hold dear."

Jackson presses his lips into a tight line, his eyes spitting fire at Elijah. He'll choose to take that as confirmation that he's understood the message.

"Well," he continues, smiling affably. "Have a wonderful evening."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Klaus is bored to death.

He watches from the second floor as his brother makes his way from Diego to Jackson, both of whom stare after him with murder in their eyes, none too pleased with the chiding they obviously got. Elijah is taking his role as stand-in king of New Orleans quite seriously. While Klaus wallows in self-pity, he distracts himself by playing politics. Each to their own, he guesses.

He only feels a tiny bit guilty over his own secondary intentions. His suggestion that his brother threw a party wasn’t entirely selfless. Klaus intends to hijack his brother's event to put his own personal plans in motion. What Elijah doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides, Klaus is fairly certain his brother will thank him one day, once it becomes obvious that his diplomatic approach never stood a chance. Elijah’s good intentions tend to make him soft, way too naive to really see the threads of war being stretched tight across the city despite his best efforts to clamor for peace.

He doesn't wish for Elijah's night to be ruined, though. In fact, he hopes his brother has a pleasant evening and can bask in his success. For now, he's fine playing the good, supportive brother, even if deep down he kind of wishes something would happen to liven up the atmosphere. As it is, everyone striving to enjoy themselves whilst heeding Elijah's requests, he doesn't feel at all like joining the celebrations. Despite his exceptionally good mood - compared to most days lately, anyway -, he still has very little cause for festivities.

He splits his attention between the werewolves and the main entrance. It’s interesting that Caroline hasn’t arrived with them. Maybe she won't come after all. He wouldn't be surprised, after their last encounter. It's not even like Klaus would know what to say. His list of reasons to apologize to her just keeps on growing, and it's never been his forte. Still, just the chance of seeing her...

"Looking for your baby mama?"

Klaus turns to see Genevieve. She would find her way to him sooner or later, of course. Hoping to sidestep her in a party at his own home where she’s somewhat of a person of interest would be too much wishful thinking.

She looks stunning, at least, with a form fitting dress and her beautiful red hair cascading down her shoulders in waves.

"Don't tell me you're jealous of Caroline, love," he says, only a tiny hint of irony transpiring through his words.

"Well, she _is_ the mother of your child. And you do an awful job at pretending you're not watching the door like a hawk for her. I don't know, she's pretty and all and I get that she's a talented witch, not to mention the fact she’s carrying your miracle child sets her apart, but... Honestly, she just seems so... Young. And ordinary."

Klaus' lips crack into a wolfish smile. She's really bad at fishing for compliments. Genevieve’s lucky he can't tell her what's really on his mind.

"Well, sometimes ordinary is a welcome respite," he offers instead.

Her eyes flash. "I thought I was your respite."

"Well, you are," he says, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You are, love. Come on. Not another word about Caroline." _Before you sour the little I managed to preserve of my good mood._

Genevieve grins, almost sheepishly, and for a moment Klaus catches a glimpse of the young woman he saw in her memories, the one Rebekah betrayed and then murdered to cover up her tracks. It's sad, really. She had her entire life ahead of her, was at the peak of her beauty and youth, thought a friend would put in a good word for her with her brother, and instead ended up backstabbed and withering away in a hospital bed with an incurable and painful disease. Genevieve's a snake, no doubt, but life - or death - made her that way, which is something Klaus can certainly sympathize with. Sometimes he thinks all she truly wants is to pick up where she left off.

If he was a better person he would even feel sorry for using her, but alas… He cares very little for her struggles.

Regardless, he can at least indulge her a little, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Just as he pulls away, out of the corner of his eyes, he catches something he'd be waiting for all night. A window.

Jackson Kenner, still looking very miffed from his brief conversation with Elijah, leaving the party and going up the stairs, disappearing down a corridor that he has no business going into. The one that leads to Klaus’ studio.

That's his chance.

He sidesteps Genevieve and follows the werewolf to find him nearly touching the fresh painting he's still working on.

"I'm so glad you accepted my invitation," he says, before the wolf could ruin his work.

Jackson turns around, every line of his body tense. Klaus has to say, he's been very curious about this character. Elijah tells him Caroline _adores_ him, and almost every single time he's gone to see her, he was close. Sometimes, _too_ close. So right off the bat, Klaus doesn't like him. But he can kind of see something in him... The useless qualities that would make someone like Caroline appreciate his friendship - which is what Klaus hopes is all there is, otherwise not all the qualities in the world will keep him from despising every fiber of poor Jackson's being.

Klaus is not a very good person, and he appreciates that, judging by Jackson's posture, he seems to be very much aware of that. It makes doing business with him easier, if he knows who he's dealing with.

"So is this where the great Klaus Mikaelson says something poignant and snaps my neck?" he asks, sticking out his chin in defiance.

Klaus smirks. "If you'd touched my painting, yes. But I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to offer you a gift."

Jackson snorts. "Out of the kindness of your vampire heart?"

"Not at all. This has nothing to do with kindness. I think we have an interest in common - and a friend who is _very_ dear to me. But since you've mentioned. Our hearts are more similar than you might realize. You see, long before I evolved, mine beat as a werewolf," he says, placing a hand above his chest. "I know your power. I know your burden. And I'm here to take the latter away."

Jackson narrows his eyes at him. "You want to make me a hybrid," he says, not as a question. "I put my pack first," he bites out angrily before Klaus can even explain his plans. "And I'm not gonna let anything compromise my family line, _especially_ becoming some bloodthirsty vampire parasite."

Ah, there it is... He acts like a puppy when he's around Caroline, but Klaus knew there was more to him. He's young for an alpha. Sure, half of his pack has been murdered, but werewolves are a proud kind. They'd never take a weakling push-over become their leader, especially having to survive in their wolf forms for as long as they did. _That_ is definitely something he can work with.

"That pride..." he says, approaching Jackson with tentative steps. "That sense of loyalty. Well, that's exactly why I haven't snapped your neck yet."

"Well, if you're not gonna kill me, then what the hell do you want?"

"Only to help you take back the city that was taken from you. How's that for poignant?" Klaus smiles, arching his eyebrows at Jacksons.

"Why would I trust someone who's conspiring behind his own brother's back?"

"You've got it all wrong, mate. I'm not trying to undermine Elijah's venture. I'm supporting his vision. Vampires destroy life to survive, witches are only as powerful as their dead, but the werewolves have strived because their strength comes from family unity. You currently have my unborn child and her mother as your guests, and I prize their safety very much. And that's exactly what that unity can offer. My daughter is part werewolf, too, and my blood runs in the veins of the wolves in the Bayou."

Something wavers in Jackson's straight posture, and Klaus realizes he finally has his attention. So he presses on.

"The painful truth is... Vampires are the antithesis of unity."

"So, what? After a thousand years, you're finally ready to embrace the other half of your family tree? Has it occurred to you that maybe the other half doesn't want you?"

"Oh, they will. Once they return to the Quarter."

Klaus brushes by Jackson, going into the adjacent room, straight to his desk. He opens a little wooden box where he keeps some valuable items, one of which is inside a little velvet pouch.

"You got a plan to back that up?" Jackson questions.

"Don't know how much of my family's history Caroline has shared with you, but my mother was a very powerful witch. I watched her craft all manner of magical items, but her most prized possession..." he says, emptying the pouch on the palm of his hand. "Was this ring. I hadn't seen it for a thousand years and it turned up hanging around the neck of a werewolf in the Bayou, a direct descendant of my biological father. I believe she gave him this ring as a way of freeing him."

"How so?"

"Daylight rings shield vampires from the sun, so why not a moonlight ring to protect werewolves from the curse? Think about it... No more breaking bones, no more losing control to the beast within."

Jackson remains quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on the ring. "What do I have to do?"

For the first time in weeks, a huge satisfied smile breaks onto Klaus' face. Perhaps Caroline does have a good reason to enjoy this fellow, after all.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Caroline told Jackson to take the rest of his entourage and go ahead without her.

Werewolves should be seen by the other factions as representing themselves, rather than being chaperoned by a witch. It was bad enough that she was the one to break into Elijah’s council meeting; it caused all sorts of comments, and the werewolves need to be seen as a strong unit by themselves. To have their image associated with her and, by consequence, with the Mikaelsons, won’t help them or Elijah’s attempts at peace. The others might think they’re being favored.

And she really meant every word. It's a solid, honest reason for them to show up at this potential death match arena without her. But the truth is.. She could use the extra time to get ready. And anyway, Eve offered to drive her to the French Quarter later, so it's all good.

There was once a time when parties were Caroline's favorite thing in the world. She would think about her looks days in advance, sometimes weeks, was always the one out of her friends who put most thought into her outfits for school dances. Her Jackie O' style for the 60s dance is one she's still very proud of. The 20s dance also. She was 100% against it, but she kinda loved that dress and the hair. It suited her. Not that she'd ever tell Rebekah that. Well, on second thought, maybe now she would.

She danced with Klaus that night, back when she still hated his guts. He told her then that the small town life and the small town boyfriend would never be enough for her, that she’d go knocking on his door one day, begging him to show her the world. It sounded so absurd she couldn’t even come up with an appropriate answer, just laughed in his face. It's funny to think how life is. She wanted to drag his face on asphalt that night, then she got pregnant with his baby, was forced to leave her small town life behind, now she hates him again. _Funny_.

Marcel's masquerade ball aside, which she went practically under cover, this is the first social event she's attending officially since she came to New Orleans. Elijah said there was no dress code, but Elijah says that because he wears a suit to go grocery shopping. Considering he's the one throwing the bash, it's safe to say he expects everyone to look at least as fancy as he does on a regular day.

Most of Caroline's clothes simply don't fit her anymore, so finding something to wear is a bit of a challenge, but when she finally manages to squeeze into a tight fitting black dress she hadn't seen in ages, she is proud of herself. A bit _too_ tight around the waist, and her gigantic belly is definitely very _in your face_ in it, but when she looks in the mirror, she finds that she doesn't really hate it. Actually, she kind of looks good. And not in a pregnant woman way. She feels _sexy_ in her tight dress highlighting all the eight months of life growing inside of her.

Her boobs look _amazing_. She's never had those in her life. _Thank you, baby girl._

"You look gorgeous," Eve says when she puts on the high heels she hasn't worn since Marcel's masquerade and finishes touching up her make up. She missed seeing herself with big red lips.

"Are you sure? Because if I look ridiculous with this much volume right here, this is the time to tell me."

Eve rolls her eyes. "You'll be the prettiest girl there."

She scoffs. "Right. I'm the only girl you know who'll be there."

"I stand by my opinion."

"Let's just go before I change my mind."

All the way to the compound, Caroline feels a lot more antsy than strictly necessary. She's just a regular guest, not even a person of interest in Elijah's game of thrones. She's representing a faction of one. Well, two. So, really. She's just going for the quality food. Why should she be nervous?

She's reminded of the reason shortly after she arrives.

Ten minutes up on her heels and already her swollen ankles are starting to kill her. She can't drink, so she starts shoving everything she sees into her mouth, and the sensation that her dress is about to burst open only grows. All that sexiness goes away pretty fast and she's questioning her stupid decision to dress up like this when she spots Klaus on the second floor, talking to Genevieve.

 _That_ is why she did all this. Because she's almost eight months pregnant, stranded in the Bayou, while Klaus' new girlfriend is a snake who looks _hot_.

Yes, she's bitter. Sue her.

Caroline's very much aware of the fact that she's blatantly _staring_ at them, but they don't even seem to take notice. Klaus has his back to her as he talks to Genevieve, and when he touches her shoulder and pulls her close to place a kiss on her cheek, Caroline feels fire lick her up inside.

A waiter walks by carrying a tray of champagne flutes and she goes straight to grab one before she remembers she can't. Honestly, doing this without alcohol is gonna be _impossible_. She should've thought this through before coming here tonight.

"You are a vision."

She whips around to find Elijah, a warm smile on his lips and that same appraising look in his eyes that always made her feel awkward and self-conscious. Incidentally, it happens to be very welcome right now.

"Thank you," she says, grinning. "I'd say you look good, too, but you dress up like that pretty much every day."

"Are you saying I look good every day?"

"You're not that modest, Elijah."

"Well, it's always good to get validation."

"In that case, you look very handsome, sir."

He offers her a charming lopsided smile. "Now, would you care to dance?"

She considers how much dancing she can do in those shoes for about five seconds before deciding to say screw it. If she has to keep her feet up for a week after tonight, so be it.

Elijah leads her to the middle of the makeshift dance floor by the stage where the musicians are, places her hand on his shoulder, takes her other hand in his and puts his other one on the small of her back.

This is exactly the kind of thing that would've never happened a month ago. Klaus' wrath would know no boundaries then. Now that he has his attention all turned to Genevieve, Caroline doesn't even mind pressing closer to Elijah. Well, she _wouldn't_ mind, if it was actually possible for her to get close to anyone with the extra volume in her midsection.

"You've outdone yourself," she says. "The party is a success. And you even got your brother to come out of his bedroom to play."

"Yes, it seems only a sizeable soiree is enough to tear my brother away from his efforts at the easel."

Caroline smiles wanly. "That, and a beautiful red-headed witch."

Elijah's mouth makes a silent _Oh_. "You've heard of Genevieve."

"I've more than heard. I had the pleasure of walking in on them. Lovely lingerie." The bitchiness in her voice is slightly embarrassing, she thinks, even though she has every right to it. "You mentioned how sad and depressed and reclusive your brother was, but you conveniently failed to mention he somehow found himself a girlfriend despite all that gloominess."

"Caroline, Niklaus is -"

"A grown man, Elijah," she cuts him off. "Who doesn't need you to defend his debatable honor. Let him stand by his choices. He's allowed to sleep with whomever he wants. Even backstabbing bitches, if that's what he goes for now."

Elijah sighs, a visibly pained look on his face. Caroline firmly believes that the reason Elijah never said anything was to not aggravate her bitter feelings towards his brother any further. Klaus really doesn't appreciate the brother he has enough. Stefan would probably kill to be exchange brothers. If Elijah was anything more like Damon, he would've jumped headfirst into the opportunity to torch every feeling Caroline's ever had for Klaus, for good. Not that Klaus needs any help with that, mind you.

"Honestly, try as I might, I have no idea what goes through my brother's insidious skull. I hope his daughter inherits her mother's... Everything."

He spins Caroline around and then pulls her back in one fluid move. She laughs. "Wow, so Klaus isn't the only Mikaelson with moves."

"Far from it. He's probably the worst of us all."

"Oh?" she arches her eyebrows at him, amused. "If I wasn't so pregnant I'd let you show me."

"Is it that uncomfortable?"

"You have no idea." They fall back into a slow sway that is far gentler on Caroline's legs, although not half as fun. "It is weird being back here like this."

"Not unpleasant, I hope."

She smiles softly at him. "Not entirely."

"Are you entirely sure you shouldn't be here with us?"

"You. Me. Klaus. And Klaus' girlfriend. What could possibly go wrong?"

"She's not his girlfriend. I don't even think he particularly likes her."

"He didn't seem bothered at all to have her rubbing her boobs all over him."

"The second you return, Caroline, he will be done with her. Niklaus only ever had eyes for you."

"That's not even the point. This is his house, he should be allowed to bring whoever he wants home. And I reserve myself the right to avoid any unpleasant run-ins with them."

"I don't feel comfortable with you out there."

Caroline scoffs, her interest in the conversation quickly declining. "Really? Is this because of the church?"

"This is because I worry about you and the more you find yourself involved in this city's insanity, the more at risk you will be."

"Haven't you understood yet that I'm not going to sit on a rocking chair, knitting, while you, powerful men, discuss the serious business?"

"Can I have a minute, Caroline?" Jackson cuts in.

"You can have it later," Elijah replies, curtly.

"Actually," Caroline lets go of his hand and takes a step back. "He can have this dance."

She takes Jackson's arm and pulls him a little further into the dance floor before placing her hands on his shoulders. He puts his on both sides of her waist and gives her an odd, considering look as they start to move. Caroline sees Elijah staring longingly at her, barely disguising his dislike of Jackson, before walking away.

"Everything all right?" Jackson asks.

Caroline plasters a smile on her lips. "Yeah. Fine. Just... Talking about unpleasant politics."

"How can you be thinking about the city right now when you look that beautiful?" Jackson says, grinning.

Caroline chuckles. "Smooth! Well played, my friend." She pulls slightly closer to Jackson, determined to salvage some of her evening by enjoying at least one dance with someone who’s not out to annoy her all the freaking time.

He may not be as sure-footed or have the same flair as a Mikaelson on a dance floor, but Jackson’s far easier to be around right now. That’s all she could ask for.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Once he achieves his primary goal of the evening - to approach the Crescents' alpha about his plans - Klaus decides he's no longer interested in human interaction and abandons the party in favor of having a lonely drink in his private rooms.

Elijah never comes to find him, which tells him his poor brother probably has a handful trying to control his guests. Even though the majority of the people seemed to be genuinely having an honest good time getting wasted on their expensive booze, anyone paying closer attention could feel the thickening tension.

He's starting to think that Elijah will actually manage without any major incidents when the music is cut off and the distinctive sounds of a wrathful altercation travels all the way to the second floor. In a blink, Klaus is out again. It seems things just got more interesting.

He doesn't know who started it, but the scene he comes to is positively indecent in the best possible way. Elijah has Oliver pinned to a table, twisting his arm behind his back, while Jackson points a wooden stake to Diego's heart. Klaus' face lights up like a child's on Christmas Eve as he takes a champagne flute to comfortably watch the confrontation unfold. He hopes Elijah tears the heart out of that little man. Then Jackson will certainly drive that stake through Diego's chest. Maybe a good showdown is exactly what this city needs.

Well, _he_ could certainly use some excitement. This is better than theater.

"What are you waiting for?" All heads turn to the staircase, where Caroline is sending a cold, hard look at Elijah. "Kill him," she says, shrugging nonchalantly.

Klaus is momentarily thrown, his mouth going suddenly dry at the sight of her. He didn't know she'd arrived, or he wouldn’t have hid in his room. Especially not when she looks... Absolutely stunning, like something out of a dream. He glimpses the defiance in her cobalt eyes, hard as rocks and alight with an intensity that’s always knocked the air off his lungs. Something tightens in his chest and time seems to slow down as she makes her way down the steps.

She is as furious as she is beautiful.

Apprehension passes through the crowd, everyone staying very still, a hush descending, but Caroline’s eyes never waver.

"Kill him, Elijah," she repeats. "I mean, it's not like he doesn't deserve to die."

"Shouldn't you intervene or something?" someone whispers behind him.

"Why would I?" he asks. "This party just got interesting."

"I mean, it was Oliver who handed Rebekah over to the witches so they could torture her," Caroline continues, a light frown on her face. "But then again, wasn't it Diego who led a werewolf massacre last month? And the witches cursed the wolves, tortured Rebekah, tried to kill me and Jackson, while the humans stood back and let it all happen. So when you think about it... You can build a strong case to why everyone here deserves to die."

"Are you approaching a point?" Elijah demands, clearly vexed.

"My point, Elijah, is that if we can't all learn how to get along, then what _is_ the point of all this? Why throw this party? Just to pretend that we can be civilized when we know the second we walk out that door, there'll be anarchy? I don't know about you, but I'm really sick of all that. So let's just kill each other and get it over with. At least then we’ll know where we all stand."

There's something hypnotizing in the way Caroline speaks, it commands the entire place. Her voice crackles through the tension with authority, reverberating across the courtyard, making it impossible not to pay attention. Everyone hangs onto her every word and Klaus has no doubt that she could order those people to do whatever she wants. If she declares war, they'll all be each other's throats. If she tells them to sit still, they will. There's an aura of confidence around her that is simply inescapable.

Klaus has always known she is intelligent, assertive and a comfortable leader, always at the helm of the ship. She's fearless, driven, loyal to her causes, and he's admired all that about her almost from the moment they met. But right now she is a queen among commoners.

That's how she's bearing herself, whether she knows it or not. It's the energy she's exuding. The kind of respect she's earning. And he is mesmerized. Klaus didn't think it was possible for him to be any more attracted to her than he already is, but the pull is unrestrainable right now. He’s bewitched.

He drove her away and did absolutely nothing for an entire month to get her back, believing she'd be safer in the Bayou and better off without him. And while he shut himself in, the rest of the world took notice.

Elijah and Jackson have the same exact stupefied look on their faces, a blend of adoration and reverence, like there's nothing they wouldn't do for her. Even kill, or spare an enemy's life. Klaus knows the feeling intimately, and he doesn’t doubt he bears the same idiotic expression right now.

He let her stay in the Bayou while he lured Genevieve to win her trust because he didn't want Caroline to get involved, and because he couldn't bear to have her only half-present in his life, he stayed 100% absent from hers. And all the while, he's been pushing her closer to yet another suitor. How can he even blame Jackson, or anyone else, for that matter, when she's so clearly the brightest light in this entire place? In this entire city.

Elijah lets go of Oliver almost at the same time Jackson takes a step back from Diego, and the crowd lets out a collective breath.

There is no way to keep Caroline excluded from the city's politics, Klaus realizes now. She was born for this. To rule.

She is the queen New Orleans should have. His queen.

If only he hadn’t lost her...

How could anyone ever have her and let her go?

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Well, tonight was definitely _something_.

Despite the aching feet, the general irritation and the near-deaths, Caroline would say the outcome was mostly positive. Her improvised speech seems to have made an impact, and Elijah said the treaty will finally be signed - by _all_ the factions, including the werewolves. It's not every day you get to call out a bunch of supernatural grown-ass men on their bullshit. She has to say... It felt good.

Jackson wanted her to stay with him and Oliver to oversee the treaty, but she is done with tonight, thank you very much. All Caroline wants now is to go back to her cozy cabin, get out of this dress and -

"Not even a hello, love?"

She stops as she's putting on her coat and sighs wearily.

When she arrived, all she wanted was for Klaus to notice her. Now that she's about to leave, his voice is the last thing she wanted to hear. Just her luck.

She turns around to find a docile grin on his face. It doesn't escape her that he looks... Well, irritatingly good. Much better than he did the other day, with all those grumpy lines wiped off his face and his stubble better trimmed. He even put on a suit for Elijah's bash, one of those exotic choices that wouldn't flatter anyone but that seems oddly fitting on him. She can't imagine Elijah wearing a velvety black jacket and a yellow patterned tie, but Klaus looks _great_.

And Caroline hates it very much. People as annoying as him shouldn’t be allowed to be so pretty.

So what if she's being a little petty? It's been a long month.

"Has anyone told you you look ravishing?" he asks.

Caroline folds her arms, sticking up her chin. "As a matter of fact, yes."

"And has anyone told you you looked even _more_ alluring as you spoke down on those rascals?"

She narrows her eyes at him. "Careful, there. Wouldn't want your girlfriend getting the wrong idea."

Klaus faces away from her, down, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looks guilty, almost bashfully so. Miles away from the attitude he had when she caught them together the other day. Elijah's feeble defense of his brother suddenly springs to mind, and she wonders if Klaus wasn't faking that bravado for the sake of Genevieve, if he really does have an ulterior motive.

Well, it doesn't matter, anyway. Whatever his reasons, he _still_ slept with her. So what if they're not even together, have technically never really been, and she has no claims over Klaus? She still allows herself the right to be pissed off.

And in any case, she doesn't like Genevieve. Never did, never will.

Call her jealous. She is. And she doesn't give a damn.

"What did you want the other day?" he asks.

"Not important.”

"It was important enough to bring you all the way here."

"Yeah, and then I realized it was a mistake."

"Caroline... Genevieve and I..." he starts. "It's not what you think."

"Oh? So you're not screwing her?" He presses his lips together. "Right. So it is exactly what I think."

"It's... complicated."

"No, it's not. And let me stop you right there. You don't owe me explanations. Whatever my personal feelings for this city's witches may be, it's your life. You're a big boy. Date whoever you want."

"I'm not _dating_ her," he grits out.

"Whatever it is that you're doing, it’s not my problem. Just know that I'm not letting my daughter anywhere near that woman, so if that's going to be her step-mom, you better be prepared to visit - _alone_ \- on the weekends."

"Caroline -"

"My feet are _killing_ me, Klaus. I have to go."

She whips around to leave, but he flashes forward and holds her arm. "Please," he says quietly. "I just want to know that you're alright."

Caroline faces him. Her heartbeats annoyingly pick up due to the sudden proximity, but her eyes are spitting fire. "You don't have to pretend that you care.”

"Of course I care."

"Funny. That's not what it seemed like when you went for a whole month without saying hi. Not a visit, not a phone call, not even a note. Nothing. Then of course you've been busy. But I thought you would've at least had a minute to check up on your daughter."

"I spoke to your doctor. Camille told me about your... emergency consult." He swallows, his face a mask of regret. "She said you'd been under a lot of stress, that you needed rest, peace. So I figured... I was probably the last person you wanted to see."

Caroline feels a rush of anger forming inside of her. She suddenly wants to _scream_. How can he be so freaking clueless? Yes, she wanted to be given space, but not to be _completely forgotten_. Elijah seems to have picked up on it fairly easily. She can't imagine Klaus didn't as well. And maybe she was angrier at him than she was at everyone else. So what? It was still his _job_ to apologize. To knock on her door a million times until she finally decided to let him in. He's the _father of her child_. If he thinks the best thing to do in a situation like this is to _abandon_ her, then what the hell is she even doing here? What was the point of resisting in New Orleans for all those months?

"You're right," she says. "You are the last person I want to see. Or speak to. So thank you for staying away. Big favor." The words are so blatantly untrue she has to hold back from letting her voice crack at the end, but she carries an edge to her tone she's not entirely sorry for, even as it registers on his face.

Caroline casts him off. "Good night, Klaus," and stalks away.

 

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Caroline's eyes are fierce like sparks under the feeble light, scorching. And then she turns away, and all he's left with is that cold emptiness again, his constant companion for over a month now.

He remembers a time when he used to think that Caroline turning her back on him was amusing. A challenge. She acted like she couldn't stand the sight of him, but he knew better. She wasn't as indifferent as she wanted everyone to believe. Now... He's not sure she wants to be chased anymore. Caroline walking away from him with such purpose breaks the little that is left of his heart.

Part of him wants to stop her. Grab her, drag her back inside, lock her up in one of the rooms. Force her to stay and to _listen_. Not long ago, he wouldn't duel much over the ethics of doing it, would just claim to have the best interests of his daughter at heart. And it wouldn't be entirely untrue. But a fire has gone out inside of him. He was afraid of ruining her before, now he's certain that he will. He hurt her, and he won't ever forget the fear in her eyes at the cemetery. What it did to him, knowing that he was the one responsible for it... Not the witches, the wolves, not the vampires; him, the father of her child.

He senses Elijah's presence before his brother opens his mouth.

"Why didn't you tell her the truth?" he asks.

"What truth?"

"That every single night, for the past month, when you think no one's paying attention, you sneak out and drive all the way to the Bayou. And while you think no one can see you, you watch her."

A muscle twitches on Klaus' jaw. "Stalking me, brother?" he inquires, turning to Elijah. He thought he was being discreet.

"Would you really prefer to have her think you don't care?"

"The further away from me she is, the safer she'll be," he says, turning his back to return to the misery that awaits him in the bottle of scotch he left in his room. "Great party, brother."

"We'll be signing the treaty in a moment," Elijah announces. "I'm just waiting for everyone else to leave. I would like you to be there."

"Why? You can do it on our behalf."

"Brother, I am not a fool. It's clear to me you're not as disinterested as you'd like me to believe. If there's no peace between us, how can we expect others to follow suit?"

Klaus regards Elijah studiously for a moment. "Fine. If it'll make you happy, I'll sign it. But I assure you this city's inhabitants will not adhere to this agreement."

"You are welcome to wager against me, Niklaus," he says, fixing his tie and then brushing by him. "You will lose."

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL. I hope nobody wants to stake me after reading this. I TOLD YOU IT WOULD HAPPEN. I hope Klaus' reasons were well enough explained, even if it's still dumb (haven't we established by now that Klaus does not think like a normal human being? He always has a SUPER PLAN™). Have to say I kind of enjoyed writing this chapter a lot more than I probably should. All the complicated feelings running around were fun to write. lol Also, a party is kind of so very TVD S3, isn't it? The good ol' days...
> 
> And yes, I am gary-stuing the shit out of Jackson. I love him and I'm not even sorry. I'm 100% making him out to be awesome. lol So bad I'm not going into Season 2 or you guys would be so SCREWED. lol (In the best possible way, obviously. ❤)
> 
> I would still very much love to hear your opinions, outraged or not, just please keep it respectful. :) Remember I'm not Julie Plec, this is fanfiction and also I'm very tired. Your comments are pretty much keeping me going at this point, so thank you SO MUCH to everyone who's been kind enough to drop me a note on FF.net, AO3 or over @ tumblr. ❤ You guys are the sweetest and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it, seriously. I'm wearing a neck brace here just to post this, it's how much I appreciate you all. ❤❤
> 
> And as a quick note, in my head, Caroline would be wearing [this Shay Mitchel hot mama dress](https://peopledotcom.files.wordpress.com/2019/09/shay-mitchell-1.jpg) to the party. But then I realized this is technically a CW show, nobody would be wearing this much cleavage or general sexiness. lol So picture whatever look you guys want. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	17. S01E17 The Big Uneasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has not been beta'ed and, as you all know, English is not my first language. I apologize for all the mistakes you will certainly find.
> 
> Just want to thank everyone who left me a comment on the last chapter. You guys are amazing and I was so relieved with your response. You have no idea how worried I was about last chapter, freaking out months in advance. lol So thank you from the bottom of my heart! ❤ 
> 
> There are more notes at the bottom. Please make sure you read them once you're done with the chapter. Hope you guys enjoy it!

* * *

Something strange is happening in the Bayou.

The place seems to have come alive since the Crescents broke their curse, the whole pack now returned to their human forms. The squalid, ramshackle camp site, reeking of misery and decay, is but a thing of the past. It is bustling with movement and people, the sounds of laughter and cheerful conversation filling what had once been a haunting silence. It's nothing compared to the chaos of the French Quarter, of course, but the swift transformation from an abandoned encampment to a real, flourishing community is astonishing, indeed.

No wonder the werewolves are so fond of Caroline. It all started with her. But that brings Elijah very little comfort.

Every time he comes around, he is surprised by the arrival of new packs. He knew the Crescents were a distinguished and old clan, going back to the origins of the werewolf species, but he certainly underestimated their hierarchical relevance. Now that they are paving the way back to their former glory, other werewolf packs are flocking over to the Bayou in heaps, desperate to pledge their allegiance. Where vampires would waste no time plotting coups and diving up foul alliances to ensure that the young Crescent leader would never have the chance to reclaim the power his clan lost during the years they spent under Marcel's curse, werewolves, it seems, are delighted to bend the knee to their new alpha. It's in their nature to put the pack before the individuals, respecting hierarchy and traditions. It’s hard to believe these people are related to Niklaus, however distantly.

Elijah was prepared to find yet more wolves surrounding the Crescents' cabins today, as that has been the norm lately, but he was definitely not prepared for... _This_. The Bayou is absolutely crowded, as though every werewolf in the country decided to make a trip down south.

He lingers back for a moment, trying to understand what exactly he's walking into. This many werewolves all gathered around one place makes him restless. For a vampire, even one as old and as himself, this is like walking into a minefield. He may be immortal, but he's not immune to pain. And to think not too long ago there were rumors that werewolves had gone extinct. Whoever spread the information had clearly never been to Louisiana.

Careful not to draw too much attention to himself - difficult, considering he's wearing a nine thousand dollars Italian suit in the middle of a flannel parade - he searches for Caroline and finds her standing right outside her cabin, next to Eve. There's a line in front of her door, the end of which Elijah cannot see. She looks every bit as bothered and uncomfortable by the agglomeration as he feels.

"Is this a bad time?" he asks as he approaches her. He can feel the werewolves glowering at him.

"More like a weird time," Caroline replies, speaking very low and hiding her mouth behind the hem of her mug. "I have no idea who all these people are and why they're standing out here all weird and lurky."

"They've come from all over," Eve answers, a proud, dreamy smile tugging at her lips. "All the packs."

Personally, Elijah thinks they look more like a cult.

"Why? To see a baby that's not even born yet?" Caroline quips.

"Forget the baby," Oliver says snippily as he comes out of the cabin. "They're here to see you. The witch who broke the curse, brought hope back to the Bayou, yadda, yadda, yadda. Considering how high in hierarchy your daughter's blood line was, they think you'll be the mother of some long lost werewolf messiah or some shit."

Elijah does not care for his tone of voice. Maybe he should've broken a couple of teeth before releasing him the other night.

Caroline snorts. "Great. No pressure or anything." She turns to Elijah, visibly relaxing when their eyes meet. However at ease she may be around the werewolves these days, they're not Caroline's people. She's just as stubborn as Niklaus when it comes to admitting that she wants to come home, to the French Quarter. Hopefully sooner rather than later, she'll become convinced that this _environment_ is far from appropriate for a newborn. If they're acting this eccentrically before the child is even here, Elijah can only imagine the kind of insanity that'll take over once she is.

"So, what brings you out here on this lovely creepy morning?" she asks, smiling warmly.

"I actually have an invitation. I'd like a word with you, if I may."

"Of course."

"And you," he says to Oliver, who quirks him an eyebrow. "And Jackson. All three of you."

"Ok..." Caroline drawls. "This morning is getting weirder and weirder." She puts down her mug. "I'll go get Jack."

Caroline scurries away rather quickly, probably glad for the excuse to hide from all the lurkers, and returns a few minutes later with Jackson. The four of them walk a little further down the river, away from the camp and the hordes of miracle baby worshippers.

"Caroline said you had an invitation?" Jackson prompts. "What do you wanna talk about?"

Elijah takes a breath. This is not gonna be an easy sell. Where to begin...

Elijah's day started rather poorly, with an early visit from Genevieve. Naturally, he thought she was after Niklaus, so he informed her that his brother had been locked away in his own quarters like a hermit for days now. Given the strong scent of alcohol Elijah picked up in the air as he passed by, it was safe to say he was in one of his glorious moods. Best to be left alone.

The witch looked rather prickly, but, much to his surprise, said Klaus was not the one she wanted to speak to. His brother has been remarkably short-tempered and surly lately and, when Elijah stopped to consider it, he hadn't seen Genevieve parading around his home since the night of the party, when the peace treaty was signed. He assumes either Niklaus ended things with her once and for all, or he simply stopped answering her incessant calls, wounding her delicate pride. Either way, Elijah can't say he disapproves of it, despite Klaus' obvious tardiness in putting an end to that nonsense. Perhaps seeing Caroline in all her glory as she slammed them all down at the party made him realize how much of a fool he was being, wasting his time with that snake while the mother of his child gains admirers every day all around New Orleans. Starting with the Crescents' alpha, with whom she now lives.

What Genevieve wanted, after all, was to have a word with _the person in charge_ , as she put it herself. She had a favor to ask. One which Elijah wasn't all that congenial about initially. It takes a considerable nerve for someone who tortured both his siblings and caused a major rupture in his family's life to come and ask for _a favor_. But once he was able to put his acrimony aside and give the matter a proper thought... He had to agree that it was, actually, not such a bad idea.

The problem lay in convincing the rest of the factions to agree with his vision. Particularly the werewolves. Which is why Elijah's left them for last.

The vampires offered no resistance. Not because they were glad to oblige, but because Diego is wisely terrified of him. All Elijah had to do was remind him that he is perfectly replaceable if he ever finds it difficult to honor his newfound position as the head of the vampire faction - a position Elijah had kindly bestowed upon him, believing him to be reasonable and fully capable of keeping his peers under a tight leash. But he could always change his mind, of course. Elijah doesn't expect to be loved by the vampires, they just have to respect his authority, both as the man currently wearing the makeshift crown of New Orleans, and as one of their makers.

Francesca Correa was far more persuadable. The situation offers her an interesting opportunity for personal gains as the owner of the city's most famous casino. But she made sure to mention that she would consider it _a favor_ that she'd be looking to collect in the future. That woman is... Way too sly for a human. Elijah needs to keep his eyes open around her.

With the werewolves, however... He expects negotiations to be slightly more complicated. They have nothing to gain and a lot of attitude. And it's not like he can just flaunt his authority about the way he does with the vampires. Especially not with Caroline there. She's... Harder to deny, so to speak. And after the party at the compound, it is more than obvious that she has more of an influence than even she seems to realize. And not only with the wolves.

"The witches are having a festival of sorts," he starts, and already Caroline is rolling her eyes. "One of their old traditions that Marcel banned and that they are now seeking to reestablish under the new peace treaty. The Fête de Benedictions, Feast of the Blessings."

"And what exactly is that?" Ollie enquiries.

"Members of the community offer witches gifts in exchange for blessings. They'd like to use it as a forum to introduce their recently returned Harvest girls to New Orleans' society, and they would like everyone to attend. Your people are uniquely poised to set an example for the rest of the French Quarter, so it's of utmost importance that the wolves send a representative."

Instantly, all heads swivel towards Caroline, three sets of expectant eyes waiting for her reaction.

She frowns lightly. "What are you all looking at? I'm not a werewolf."

Elijah arches his eyebrows at her. "It's not what that line outside your cabin says."

" _I'm not_ ," she repeats, more emphatically. "But if you want my opinion, the witches are the ones who cursed your pack. I wouldn't go. But it's your choice, not mine. I'm staying put."

"Caroline, please," Elijah beseeches.

"Are you serious? Those witches have tried to kill me. I will _certainly_ not be offering any gifts to freaking Genevieve.”

"The gifts are not for her, it's for the young girls. You can gift Davina."

"It's a new day in the Quarter, Caroline," Jackson says in a pacifying tone. "If we're going to coexist we have to play ball." He turns to Elijah then. "We'll send a representative, with a gift."

"There, you have your werewolf," Caroline says drily, turning on her back and walking away.

Elijah waits until she's moved a little further ahead and flashes towards her, eyeing Oliver and Jackson suspiciously.

"That was too easy," he says, lowly.

"I thought it was exactly what you wanted."

"Yes. But I expected to have to use a lot more persuasion to get it. I thought I'd have to convince you first."

If he had more time, he'd stick around longer, sniffing around. Something doesn't feel right. Even the vampires were harder to crack than the wolves. This can't be them just playing _ball_. Something's happening, and he intends to figure out exactly what. More than ever, he's not comfortable with Caroline being around them. Unfortunately, though, his presence is required back in the Quarter.

He looks her dead in the eye, then, before blurring away. "Don't trust them. Don't trust any of them."

 

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She's fine suspecting Oliver; she never trusted him anyway. But doubting Jackson makes her feel a little disconcerted. He's been superb to her since his return to the camp, a good friend and a great leader, making sure that Caroline never felt left out or ostracized for not being one of them, strictly speaking. Not to mention, he's the one who saved her life all those months ago in the woods. She hasn't forgotten. She also knows Elijah has some petty rivalry grievances against him, but... She has to say, something about that conversation didn't sit right with her either. It really was too easy.

She had to practically beg Jackson to go to the party at the compound, and it was way more in his interests to go to that one than to some witchy tribute celebration. And after the altercation with the vampires, she thought it'd be at least twice as hard to convince him to go to another event like that. Instead, it was as smooth as spreading butter. Not even Oliver, who prides himself in being a jackass whenever possible, had an objection to make.

So when she finds the two of them with their heads bent together, whispering all conspiratorially to each other, and they stop the second she comes out of the cabin, she knows Elijah wasn't just being petty. There's _definitely_ something going on.

"What is this, high school?"

"Why don't you take the hint and mind your own business?" Ollie snaps.

And, oh, he shouldn't have...

Caroline grabs his arm and twists it around his back, slamming him against the door. "I don't like your tone of voice," she grits out. "If you're going to be using me to fight on your corner when it convenes you and then whispering behind my back, it _is_ my business."

"No need to get all riled up," Jackson says, rather calmly considering she's a spark away from kicking his buddy's ass. She's been holding back against Ollie for ages now. Just give her _one_ reason and she'll put him to sleep for a good week. "It's not good for you, Caroline."

Oliver tries to get away, so she twists his arm a bit further and pushes him hard against the door once more. "The last month of pregnancy is all hormones and mood swings and I'm _dying_ for an excuse to enjoy my inhuman strength before I have to give it up, so unless you'd like me to snap your arm like a twig, I suggest you tell me exactly what's going on."

"You can go to hell," Ollie spits back.

"Knock it off," Jackson says. "There's no reason to keep it from her."

"Keep _what_ from me?"

"I can think of a reason," Oliver hisses out. "Tall, immortal, wears a pocket scarf." Caroline pushes his head hard against the wall.

"Caroline, we think of you as one of us," Jackson says. "You deserve to know. Go on."

He makes a pleading face and she finally releases Ollie, turning to Jackson with her brows pitched together and her arms folded across her chest. "Talk."

"We made an alliance that's going to change everything for the wolves."

She narrows her eyes at him. So they _are_ going behind Elijah's back, even though she yelled at him to give them a sit on their peace treaty table. "An alliance with whom?" she demands.

Oliver and Jackson exchange a glance. "Klaus."

" _What_?!"

Jackson motions for her to be cool. She's gonna snap his arm too if he keeps acting this condescending. "It's a good thing," he says.

She pulls a chair closer and sits down to make herself comfortable. This conversation is going to be longer than she thought.

"Tell me everything."

 

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To make sure no one will misunderstand just how much he expects them all to behave tonight, Elijah donates a lot of money to the Fête de Benedictions and decides to stay right next to the gate as the guests begin to arrive for the after-party once the public parade is over. This way he can remind each and every one of them of their commitments to the peace cause with a good show of his sharp fangs, just in case it happens to slip anyone’s minds.

Despite being mostly there to indiscriminately intimidate, and also to keep tabs on who each faction has sent as a representative, there is one person he's genuinely happy to see: Davina Claire.

He hadn't had a chance to speak to her since she was returned to life, following Celeste's death. Genevieve told Niklaus that she was _struggling_ , which to him translates as _being punished_ by her beloved ancestors for having postponed the Harvest ritual for as long as she did.

But based on what he saw during the parade, she's doing much better now. The people crowding the streets to watch what they deemed to be a _performance_ were impressed with her trick. Each girl represented one of the elements - minus one, since one of the Harvest girls will remain buried in Lafayette Cemetery as long as Genevieve sports her unpleasantness across the streets of New Orleans. Davina was fire. As such, she lit up the panel behind them and started a fireworks spectacle. Quite remarkable, indeed - for the ordinary mortal, anyway.

The scorching look of reproach on Monique Deveraux's face did not escape Elijah's attention. She's just a child, but something about that girl rubs him very wrong. She's got the eyes of a fanatic. Might be even worse than her aunt, may she rest in peace.

Davina's walking right by him, blissfully ignoring his presence, when he calls to her. She stops, whirls around and gives him a hard look that isn't unlike the ones he gets from Caroline from time to time. He can't help the smile that creeps onto his face, glad to see that death doesn't seem to have affected her strong personality.

"It's lovely to see you," he says, earnestly. "And under far better circumstances."

"Is it? I never saw Tim again and your brother is still breathing," she retorts curtly.

"Davina, that's enough," Genevieve scolds her, approaching them with her façade of cordiality. "Elijah's been a patron to us this evening and we will show him respect."

Davina looks from Genevieve to him, gives a light shrug and turns away from them, heading towards the entrance.

"Thank you for all of this," Genevieve says.

"This isn't for you," he replies, sounding far tarter than he did a moment before. "You know as well as I do that your people would never accept a truce unless we showed them some respect. So be it." He motions towards the entrance, giving her a look that he hopes makes it crystal clear there are limits to how _friendly_ he’s willing to be towards her. "Enjoy your party."

Genevieve grins, that cynical expression that makes him want to peel it off her face with his hands, and saunters away.

It's a mystery how his brother tolerates that woman.

The smile Elijah shows to the next person who arrives, however, is entirely sincere.

As always, Caroline looks lovely.

"Strange," he drawls. "I seem to recall you saying you wouldn't come."

"Well, if you don't want me here -"

"I never said that. Where are your colorful friends?"

"I don't know," she shrugs. "I don't represent any factions in this city, I only represent myself."

"Well, that's a shame."

Klaus materializes next to them, hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face. He wasn't at the parade, and Elijah wasn't sure if he'd come tonight at all. He's been avoiding Genevieve like the plague since the event at the compound.

"I'm sure their plights are far more palatable when they come from you," he adds.

Caroline rolls her eyes at him, but when she turns to Elijah and notices the ghost of amusement on his face - well, he doesn't _disagree_ -, she glares at both of them.

"If I stay outside making any more small talk I might change my mind about attending this... Whatever this is," she says, drily.

“Well, then. Shall we?” Elijah offers her his arm. She hesitates, looking a little disconcerted. She turns to Klaus, his brother's eyes flashing before he positions himself on her other side and, mirroring Elijah's movement, holds out his own arm for her to take.

Caroline looks from one to the other and huffs out a disbelieving laugh. "Oh, what the hell," she mutters, wrapping a hand around each of their elbows as they walk together towards the mansion.

 

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As far as grand entrances go, Caroline thinks hers ranks pretty high.

Klaus and Elijah arriving together anywhere in this city, especially at an event where every single guest happens to be a part of the supernatural underworld in one way or another, would turn heads. When they arrive with a pregnant girl between them, it turns heads _and_ raises eyebrows.

Considering her idea here was to call as little attention as possible to herself and act as a mere observer, maybe she should've thought this through.

Caroline feels terribly self-conscious. Like carrying Klaus' magical mystery baby didn't make her the topic of enough conversations already. Now she feels she might have given the not-so-good folks of the Big Easy reason to speculate on slightly juicier affairs. Just what she needed, then.

What would her friends back in Mystic Falls think if they could see her now? What would her _mother_? All those times Caroline derided Elena for parading across town with a Salvatore on each arm, and now look at her. Well, at least she's had an upgrade, she guesses.

As much as she hates Damon and would like to drown him in a bag, part of her always felt a little envious of Elena, of the kind of attention she got from the brothers, what they were willing to do for her. There was Stefan, who was a real life prince charming - if you disregard the whole ripper thing, which Caroline does because he was one of her best friends and a good person at heart, no matter what anybody said - and then there was Damon, who was as rotten on the inside as he was alluring on the surface. Despite all the terrible things he did to Caroline, he was something of a stone age gentleman to Elena. Considerate, attentive, even sweet if he was in the right frame of mind. One thing no one doubted was that Damon would do literally anything for Elena, except maybe getting the hell out of her life. And while Elena somehow managed to get two epic loves almost at once, not breaking a single drop of sweat, Caroline had to go up on stages and sing love ballads to get Matt to stop thinking about his ex for five seconds. It always made her feel so cheap. An attention-seeker, _screaming_ to be noticed by the guys she loved.

And now... Again, look at her.

Suddenly she feels a lot more respect for Elena. Her friend's love life was far from the walk in the park Caroline used to think it was. She's very much aware that in her Elena analogy, Klaus would be Damon, as far as the rest of humanity is concerned. And Caroline can't really say she disagrees. She tries her best to hold Klaus accountable for all the crap he pulls, but being involved with him takes a certain level of abstraction, not to mention humongous amounts of patience and blind faith. The way Caroline sees it, there's a world of difference between her situation with Klaus and Damon and Elena - for starters, Klaus didn’t kill her last living relative _before_ he knew about the existence of resurrecting rings - but still…

Caroline realizes now it must not have been easy for Elena to juggle the affections of two ancient vampires. Not all the time, anyway. Especially when on the other end of that triangle is Stefan, who's _great_ and caring and understanding and respectful. A bit _too_ respectful, maybe, to the point he'd let the girl he loves leave him for his douchebag of a brother without putting up a fight. Then again, if Elena could see her now, she'd probably think the exact same thing. Caroline remembers only too well how she used to wax poetic about the _noble Original_. Elena liked Elijah. Everyone does. He's the likable Mikaelson. He's every bit a snob as the rest of his siblings and can be just as ruthless and scary, but he's _polite_ and _reasonable_ and - who would've guessed? - that actually makes a difference to the public eye.

But Elijah isn't Stefan. Caroline doesn't have romantic feelings for him. She cares about him, of course, deeply, like he's family, but... He's not the third side of the triangle because there's never been any. Not in any practical terms, anyway. She's done her best not to stomp all over Elijah's feelings, even though she _knew_ he could've been misinterpreting things, not just because she didn't want to lose him, but mostly because she didn't want Klaus to lose his brother. In this crazy place that they've elected to call a home, Elijah's support was what kept Caroline from freaking out a lot of the time. But Klaus needs him even more than she does, even if he refuses to acknowledge it. How they parted all those years ago was heartbreaking and unfair and it took them forever to finally find the way back to each other. She'd hate to be the thing that stands between the two of them as they work on rebuilding their relationship.

At the same time, her being here is what brought them together in the first place, so it's a very fine balance to keep. And maybe not her responsibility at all; she's got enough on her plate as it is to play matchmaker to two billion years old men with family issues. Still... Caroline just likes them. Both of them. In different ways. And they're better together than they are apart, that much is obvious. Especially Klaus.

This is part of the reason why she’s here tonight. Because Klaus is doing business behind his brother's back while Elijah runs around the city trying to negotiate peace treaties and keep everyone's moods in check. Why Klaus would be a jerk to the one person who hasn't defected him yet is just beyond her. Maybe that's exactly what he wants, though, to take Elijah to the breaking point until it'll be just him all alone in that house. Klaus is the kind of guy who would unleash all the horrors in the world just to prove a goddamn point. Caroline has to agree with Elijah on that matter; his self-destructive tendencies are unrivaled. And he is about to destroy his last remnants of a family.

As mad as she is with him, and as not her business as his relationship with his brother might be, she doesn't _want_ Klaus to throw himself head-first into the abyss. If he continues down that road, there will be no turning back and Caroline... Well, she doesn't want Klaus to lose himself for good. Whatever happens between them in the future, he’ll always be the father of her child. She’d rather her daughter has a moderately sane person in her life than an unhinged maniac or no one at all.

But for that, he'll need Elijah. And if that means she'll have to walk through a party with two handsome men shooting daggers at one another on each side of her, then so be it. If she disregards the weird looks they're getting and the tiny voice in her head saying she owes Elena at least half an apology, it's not really that horrible. She can think of worse situations to be in.

A moment later, Genevieve starts talking, and Caroline's mood immediately sours. She lets go of both her escorts, taking a deliberate step further away from Klaus. For a second there she almost forgot the woman currently screwing him is their host for tonight.

"Caroline -" he starts, leaning closer.

She folds her arms over her chest in a clearly defensive posture and keeps her eyes angrily focused on the red-haired woman. "Shhhh. Your girlfriend is talking," she grits out.

Klaus lets out a loud, expressive sigh, but realizes he'll get nothing less hostile out of her and drops it.

"Welcome!" the witch says, drawing everyone's attention to her. The conversation dwindles to a stop. She's standing by the central staircase, surrounded by the three young resurrected girls, each dressed as an element. Davina looks beautiful in red, representing fire. Caroline smiles to herself. The last memory she has of Davina is... Well, awful doesn't even begin to describe it. She's glad to see her back, even if it is to have that snake as a mentor.

"As is our time-honored tradition, you are all welcome to deliver your offerings," Genevieve says, motioning towards the girls. "It is our custom that no one should be turned away, no blessings denied. So please. Step forward."

The girls each take a seat on a throne-like chair and Genevieve steps away. A ripple of uncertainty runs through the crowd, mostly formed by humans and vampires. Caroline waves to Jackson, who smiles back at her from the other side of the semi-circle formed around the thrones.

There's a long awkward moment during which no one moves, everyone waiting to see who'll be the first to go.

"Did you threaten all these people into being here?" she asks Elijah.

"Not at all," he replies, a wolfish grin on his face. "I strongly insisted."

Caroline scoffs, shaking her head. "Well, I suppose I'll just get this over with."

She cuts a line straight to Davina, smiling at the girl. The gift she brought was thought for her. It's a hairpin that matches her blue-green eyes. Since Caroline decided to come, she might as well do something nice for someone who actually deserves it. But a witch pulls her away and indicates Monique.

Caroline grins apologetically at Davina and deposits her gift in front of Monique Deveraux, thinking that there might be some kind of order to this stupid ceremony. Sophie's niece is beautiful, and she actually reminds Caroline a lot of her aunt. They have the same eyes. But something about her just creeps Caroline out. Monique nods at her in appreciation and then she's moved out of the line so another person can come forward.

She goes back to where she was standing, and finds only Elijah there. "Where did he go?" she asks. Elijah merely shrugs. Caroline searches around for Klaus, dreading to see him by Genevieve’s side, but the witch is still standing on her own, close to her pupils, overseeing the blessings.

One by one, all of the guests take their gifts up to the girls. Diego, Jackson, that Francesca woman... And one after the other, the witch coordinating the line directs the people towards either Monique or the other Harvest girl, never allowing anybody to offer their gifts to Davina.

"Those bitches," Caroline mutters bitterly, shaking her head. They're doing it on purpose, just to punish her. That girl went through hell because her own coven lied to her about a ritual, making her believe she was being groomed towards greatness when in reality she was being prepared for a slaughter. Now the very people who were supposed to welcome her back after such a traumatic event are out to embarrass her in front of the entire supernatural community.

As if Caroline needed any more reasons to dislike Genevieve.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please!"

They all turn to see Klaus dragging Josh up the stairs by the scruff of his neck. Elijah noticeably stiffens next to her. Caroline watches in disbelief. He must have lost his mind for good.

The minute she sees Josh, Davina jumps from her throne and rushes to her friend's side.

"What the hell is he doing?" Caroline asks.

"I haven't the slightest idea," Elijah replies through grit teeth.

"We are gathered here today to pay homage to our beloved witches. But one very special witch has been utterly ignored," Klaus speaks with mock sympathy. "That seems a little unfair to me." He takes a tiny little box from his pocket and offers it to Davina.

"No," she shakes her head, her face scrunched up with aversion. "I don't want your gift."

"I understand why you would reject me, given our past. In truth, many of us here today have been wronged in the conflict which my brother's treaty ended." He casts his eyes towards Elijah, and Caroline bristles. How can he say that with such a straight face when he's negotiating behind his brother’s back to sabotage his efforts? "Your friend Josh here was involved in a plot to kill me. It would be well within my right to execute him here and now."

"Oh, for God's sake," Caroline snaps, taking a step forward as she prepares to intervene in case Klaus attempts anything against Josh. The poor boy shudders, terrified. Davina gasps, her eyes going wide in despair. She may not be as powerful as she once was, but she's still a witch, and one who remembers very well what Klaus almost did to her a few months back. What the hell exactly does he think he's doing? She’ll fry his brain in a second.

"But," he continues in silky tone, smiling. "In the spirit of solidarity, and for your favor, Davina, I hereby pardon him. Josh," he turns to his former minion. "From this day forward, you have nothing to fear from me. Please, Davina. Accept my gift." He offers her the box again. She hesitates, exchanging a glance with Josh, and then takes the box.

A self-satisfied smirk spreads across Klaus' lips, his eyes glinting with mischief, and Caroline realizes he's looking at someone in the crowd. She follows his gaze to find a fuming Genevieve, her mouth pressed into a tight line, eyebrows slashed together in the most unbecoming expression she’s seen on that woman’s face. Then she spins on her heels and stalks off, followed closely by the other two Harvest girls.

Caroline has no idea what Klaus' angle here is, but he wouldn't do something like that without a very good reason. And it seems he was especially trying to piss off Genevieve - which, taking by her reaction, he succeeded at with flying colors by openly defying her. So there must've been a fight there.

All sorts of muscles in Caroline relax. Whether it's because, for once, Klaus seems to have done something decent and corrected an injustice without anybody having to make him or because it particularly annoyed Genevieve, she doesn't know.

Elijah excuses himself to go talk to some other people and Caroline takes the opportunity to circulate as the festivity goes on, now without its host, which just makes it suddenly a lot more tolerable. Her eyes linger sadly on the people nursing their drinks, wishing yet again that she could ease her discomfort with a bit of alcohol. Just as she's starting to feel sorry for herself and wondering how much longer she's expected to stick around, someone hooks a hand around her arm, pulling her near, a warm breath way too close to her neck. It sends a spark running through her body, prickling the hair on the back of her neck.

"I hear you've made quite an impression with the wolves," Klaus speaks, his voice pitched low so the hordes of vampires around them won't take notice of their conversation. "My arrangement with them was supposed to be a secret and yet your forced it out of them. It was very bold. As was your decision to come today, on your own." His voice is even and mild, but Caroline feels the edge of his reproach.

She pulls slightly away to look at him, though she doesn't shake off the gentle hold he keeps of her arm. "Why?" she asks, arching her eyebrows to feign surprise. "Didn't want me crashing your lover's party? Or... Was that trouble in paradise I sensed just now?"

"Genevieve did something that deeply vexed me," he explains simply.

"What, you mean worse than what she did to Rebekah? Don't tell me you think you caught her making out with Elijah. Because, from experience, it might not be true.”

Klaus' impassiveness wavers. "She tried to steal something very precious and very personal. When everybody left to attend the parade, she sent one of her minions to the compound, thinking it’d be unguarded."

Caroline regards him thoughtfully, trying to figure out what she could possibly want from Klaus. It takes only a few seconds to hit. The one thing he never left out in the open. "Your mother's spell book," she says, and Klaus merely looks away. A smile breaks onto her face almost unwittingly. " _Wow_. She was using you. How does it feel to be played like that?"

"I wasn't played, love. I knew exactly what she was after, which is how I managed to put a stop to her ploy."

"Is that why you publicly undermined her authority by offering Davina a gift?"

"I was going to gift her that anyway. I just felt like correcting a terrible unfairness."

"What did you give her?"

"A spell I imagine she'll find very useful and that I know the rest of her coven has been keeping from her and the other girls."

"What spell?"

Klaus’ lips tug upwards into a grin full of mischief. "Her dear friend Joshua still can't walk outside during the day, poor lad."

Caroline blinks slowly. "You gave her the spell to make daylight rings?"

"And a ring with a beautiful lapis lazuli stone to go with it, yes."

Caroline's brow furrows. She's very confused right now; technically, what Klaus did is genuinely nice. But good deeds rarely ever come free with him.

And then, suddenly, everything makes sense. The moonlight rings, of course.

He was planning on using Genevieve to forge the rings, but now that their relationship is strained, or maybe even finished, Klaus has started to work on Plan B by buttering up - and training - Davina. So she's his second option.

Caroline feels a stab of irritation, and it must show on her face, because Klaus holds her gaze and says, in a slow, measured tone, "I trust you'll do nothing to harm the cause of the werewolves. It's our daughter's cause, too."

"Do you really think it's the right thing to do to go behind Elijah's back? He's been fighting real hard to establish peace here," she grits out, the beginning of real heat on her voice.

"What difference does it make to you as long as it benefits your friends?"

"That was what you wanted from Genevieve, wasn't it? You wanted her to do you that little favor."

Klaus shrugs. "I had a use for her, yes."

Caroline releases her arm from his grip. "Why not ask me?"

"I imagined that would be obvious. I don't want you to get involved."

"I'm _already_ involved. I live with them, remember? And you wouldn't even have to have sex with me to get what you wanted," she points out crossly, striving to keep her tone even but not quite hiding the bitterness. Klaus glares. "But maybe you were looking forward to the little extra on the side when you opted for her, someone who's betrayed your trust every single chance she had."

"Careful, love," he says. "I might start to think you're jealous." His dark expression doesn't match the sarcasm in his voice.

Caroline knows he's teasing her, but the anger still flares hot under her skin. Her expression barely changes, though, and she decides not to give him the pleasure, ignoring his remark in favor of a thinly veiled threat. "If I find out that you're playing some game with those people, Klaus, manipulating them into taking part in one of your schemes -"

"How quick you are to judge my intentions. Some things never change."

"Funny you should say that when you were _so_ very quick to judge when you thought I was cavorting with your brother. Now here you are, this paragon of correctness, _sleeping with the enemy_ ," she spits out with impressive spite.

"I made a mistake," Klaus retorts, a hint of exasperation in his voice and a strange combination of regret and fury in his eyes. "I jumped to conclusions when I saw you and Elijah and I was wrong in thinking I could benefit from getting closer to Genevieve. I have since corrected that mistake. I wish I could take it all back, but I can't. Happy now?"

"No." Caroline shakes her head. "None of that makes me happy, Klaus."

"Then what does? Tell me, Caroline."

There's a shift in his expression, a plea in his eyes that makes her uncomfortable all of a sudden. There are a million different answers to that question. But, at this point, he shouldn't even have to ask. If he does, it means he's not ready to hear an honest answer.

"Right now, I just want you to think twice before you decide to sacrifice anyone else for your own personal gain. If what you're trying to do here is just to get yourself a new army to fight your war, then don't. Because if you hurt them, Klaus, I will not forgive you. If I mean anything to you at all, then don't."

Klaus inches closer, his face a hair’s breadth away from hers, and speaks almost reverently. "You've come a long way, Caroline, from your days as Miss Mystic Falls. I knew you were tough, I knew you were cunning, I even knew you were very comfortable leading others." He pauses, a tiny smile dancing on the corner of his mouth. "But I never knew you were a queen."

He pulls back and walks away, disappearing from sight. Caroline lets out a sharp breath, trying to compose her thoughts.

Queen, he says.

With no kingdom. No subjects. No influence. And no king. Some queen, she is...

 

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Elijah has almost convinced himself that allowing the Fête the Benedictions to happen - and threatening everyone into showing up - was a good idea when all hell breaks loose.

Aside from the ridiculous play Genevieve pulled on Davina, which Niklaus, in a rare bout of generosity, managed to somewhat correct, it all went remarkably well. His brother is already regarded as some kind of eccentric by the supernatural community, so a strange, theatrical behavior was almost expected. People were mostly entertained, rather than annoyed - well, Genevieve and her minions aside, of course.

The vampires behaved. The witches seemed all very satisfied to be honored by the rest of the factions. Even the few werewolves who came appeared to be relaxed. It was a good show of civility and camaraderie that spoke volumes for the continuity of the peace treaty.

Until a group of men, all dressed in white, enter the saloon drumming away on tambours in perfect synch. Everyone stops to enjoy the performance, including Elijah, thinking it is yet another part of the witches' traditions. Suddenly, the men all stop, pulling knives from their pockets, and slit their wrists open.

Elijah doesn’t have to feel the stench of fresh blood filling the air to know the effect it will cause on the younger vampires. There are horrified gasps all around, and the distinct sound of roars coming from the enticed beasts. He tries to cut his way through the crowd to keep everyone from jumping the men when the lights go down.

And then what had been a civilized social gathering becomes a slaughter.

People scream, run, tumble to the floor in desperate heaps as vampires jump anything that moves, sinking their teeth into wrists and necks alike.

The only thing Elijah can think of is Caroline. She was _right there_ , dangerously close to Diego. He starts calling out to her, but it's impossible to distinguish anything amidst the howls and painful groans. He grinds his teeth together furiously as he searches around, tripping over bodies, when the light comes back on.

"Klaus!" he hears her voice, shaky and scared, and finds her on the floor across the room, trying to pull herself up, a tread of blood running down the side of her head.

In a second, his brother is by her side, his eyes wild with rage as he helps her up, holding her by the elbows as she searches the room. Her expression morphs into one of horror, and when Elijah follows her gaze, he realizes why. He'd been so concerned with finding Caroline he failed to notice the amount of corpses on the floor. It was a massacre.

Elijah's heart sinks. They won't ever stop fighting each other. Niklaus told him, didn't he? He said no one would abide by the rules of the treaty, they wouldn’t play fair. Peace was never an option.

He relaxes somewhat when he sees his brother drape a protective arm around Caroline and lead her away from there. When he turns around, checking for any injured people in need of help, he sees a message was painted on the wall while the lights were out. In bright, blood red.

_THERE WILL BE NO PEACE._

 

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Caroline walks through the French Quarter only vaguely registering her surroundings. The desperate screams of the people running from the party get mixed with the uproar of the streets, still packed with tourists and locals celebrating the Fête de Benediction, completely unaware of what just happened at the private party. Some blessing...

She was seized by a bolt of panic the moment the lights went off. Before there was even a chance to react, someone knocked her down, and it was all she could do to try and not get tramped. Caroline curled up into a fetal position to protect her belly, getting tripped over and hit by something hard on the head, and all around she could hear the bodies dropping like flies. Somebody tried to pull her up, none too gently, and she doesn't know if it was someone trying to help or one of the vampires smelling food with the blood that was running down her forehead; Caroline just hit them square on the face with her elbow until she heard a crack and they let her go.

When the lights came back, the first thing that came to her mouth - after a horrified gasp at the terrible scene surrounding her - was Klaus' name. He was there in a blink, putting his arms protectively around her, asking if she was ok and ushering her outside.

The next few minutes go by in a daze. The only sound she can hear is that of her own heart, hammering away against her ribcage as though it’s trying to escape. Her mind only returns to focus once they're out of the streets, somewhere quiet and calm. And that's when she realizes Klaus took her back to the compound.

She takes a deep, shuddery breath that feels like coming up for air, shaking her head against the nausea threatening to overtake her.

Klaus' hold on her arm is firm, and he's trying to pull her up the stairs, but Caroline halts. He turns around and when she meets his gaze, she finally feels grounded again. The lines on his face have deepened, an unlikely blend of concern and anger written all over. His eyes are as dark as the night but she can see right through it, to the storm brewing inside of him.

"What was that?" she asks in s small voice.

"I don't know," he replies gravely. "But I don't think the witches were expecting it."

"Who would do that?" He presses his mouth into a furious line, his nostrils flaring, but doesn't reply. He knows, or has a pretty good idea at least, but the mere thought makes him beside himself in rage. That can only mean one thing.

Marcel.

Caroline looks away, down to her own feet, a sense of hopelessness falling over her. "It won't ever stop, will it?" she whispers, more to herself than to him. "I have to go."

"Go where?"

"Home."

Klaus steps up to her. "This _is_ your home, Caroline. Our daughter's home," he says solemnly, but his voice is laden with worry and exhaustion, and Caroline thinks his eyes seem a thousand years old right then.

She shakes her head. "No. I don't even know what happened to them. Jackson was there. I need to make sure -"

"After what just happened, you can't possibly -"

"I very much want to understand what exactly just happened, but for once I don't think it was about me."

Klaus reaches out to graze the cut on her forehead, or where the cut should be, his touch sending a rush through her. She feels it again, that flutter in her chest. Gray, battered, but still there. Still alive.

Caroline swallows and steps away from him. "I'm fine," she says. "The baby heals me."

Klaus’ dark eyes rake over her, searching. "It's been long enough, Caroline. You've spent a season in the swamp with your wolf friends, now it's time to come home."

"And why would I do that?" she asks bitterly.

"Because you have to!" he snaps, anger flaring behind his eyes. "You don't belong there."

"And you think here is where I belong?"

Klaus huffs out in irritation. "If this is about Genevieve -"

"It _is_ about Genevieve," she cuts him off, her voice sharp and harsh. "But it's also about you, Klaus. You never trusted me."

"That's absurd!"

"You had vampires following my every step, breathing down my neck every second, of every goddamn day."

"It was for your protection!" he blasts, gesticulating frantically.

"I'm a witch, Klaus! A witch with super strength and quick healing abilities, with the compliments of _your_ child. Yes, despite all of that, I have been caught off guard, but so has everyone else. So have _you_. You kept me in the dark about everything that happened in this house like I'm some dead weight, and you would rather enlist the help of an enemy than come to me. Were you afraid I'd tell Elijah?" Klaus opens his mouth, and then shuts it back up with a loud snap, the expression on his face wavering. Caroline shakes her head. "You don't trust me," she repeats, slowly. "The werewolves took me in as though I'm one of their own, helped me when I needed the most. I would do _anything_ to return their friendship. But you wouldn't even ask."

"This isn't a matter of trust, Caroline. I trust you more than you even know, but I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want to put a target on your back because of something I've done, _again_. Did you not see what happened today? Werewolves’ heads are coveted commodities in the French Quarter and they will do _anything_ to ensure they’ll either stay out or stay dead, including _kill_ anybody who dares to take their side. I don't care what happens to Genevieve, or anyone else for that matter, but _I will not let them hurt you_! Everything I do is for you, for our child! I want her to grow up in a safe city, surrounded by people who would give their lives to protect her."

"No one should have to give their lives for her! That's _our_ job, mine and yours, no one else's. If anyone else is willing to do it, it's out of the goodness of their hearts, and we should appreciate it, not make anybody feel like they're obligated. The more you try to turn this entire city into an army, the riskier it gets - how can you _not_ have understood this yet?! Fear doesn't conquer all, Klaus. You might think that you have everything under control, but if all your subjects feel for you is _fear_ , they won't hesitate to turn against you as soon as there's an opportunity. The more you terrorize them, the more brittle their loyalty becomes. You of all people should've learned that by now, after your hybrid fiasco in Mystic Falls." Caroline stops, quieting down her exasperation before continuing. "Love, Klaus. Respect. _That_ is what gets you loyalty. Love... And trust."

Caroline turns on her heels with a dull ache in her chest, like a fist wrapped around her heart, and walks out. She's truly concerned for Jackson and the others, and they need to have a serious word about their alliance with Klaus. She was against it initially because it undermined everything Elijah was trying to build. But now she sees there is no other way. If the werewolves are to have any chance at finding their place back into their city, they'll need to fight for it, and Klaus' plan is their best hope, but they'll need to discuss the details of this arrangement. For starters, Genevieve can’t get her hands anywhere near those rings.

As ironclad as her resolve might be, however, walking away from Klaus always feels like leaving a part of herself behind. If he would only _learn_ , if he would only _understand_... It's not about belonging and it's not about Genevieve, either. It's about how he refuses to see the error of his ways. Why would she come back if everything will stay exactly the same? Their relationship is a never-ending array of frustrations; for each step forward they take, there are ten steps back. And while Caroline may have friends in the Bayou and Elijah, what Klaus fails to realize is that what he does matters _more_. It affects her in ways that no one else can. His words, his anger, his mistrust - it _hurts_. And Caroline is simply tired of that.

She's tired of this lack of definition, tired of Klaus always holding all the cards. Her whole life is up in the air right now. She doesn't have a home, a plan, a future, _nothing_. She doesn't even know where her daughter will be born, where she'll sleep, what her freaking name will be. And anyone who knows anything at all about Caroline can understand how much panic this whole situation instills in her. She's on the verge of a full-on breakdown, and the last thing she needs right now is one more complication to add to the chaos.

Klaus can either figure out what he wants and be ready to _commit_ to it with everything that it entails, or they're better off staying away from each other.

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Klaus feels the coppery scent of blood before Elijah walks in.

He's sitting by himself in the dark, nursing a drink. The sense of deja vu is unavoidable. This has been his life for the past month or so. Sad, pathetic and so very lonely.

He didn't realize how quickly he got used to not being alone. Between Caroline, Elijah and Rebekah, coming home to familiar faces every single day was a novelty. He spent decades on his own, carrying his family in coffins wherever he went, to the point he convinced himself he didn't need anyone.

On the one hand, not having to answer to anybody, meet expectations other than his own, get frowned upon and judged, was rather liberating. Klaus didn't have to limit himself anymore for the sake of other people's delicate sensibilities, consider whether or not his actions would bear consequences. On the other hand, however...

He did get so very lonely.

Maybe that's the problem. He forgot what it was like to have a family, to be surrounded by people who would stick around, no matter what. Even when he got angry, murderous, terribly jealous, when his temper got out of hand as it often did, he'd still have to live with them. And he never did learn quite how to apologize for his own failings, how to acquit himself. He’s always been far more accomplished in the arts of destruction, after all.

But even at the worst of times, it was good to have... people. People he cared for - people he trusted, despite what Caroline might think. He'd trust her with his life. With everything he owns. With his child. What he doesn't trust is himself.

He's kept away from her all this time for so many reasons, but it strikes him now that at the root of everything is fear. Klaus is afraid to break her beyond repair. To fail her. Fail their daughter. Above all, he is afraid he won't be there to protect them when they need him to, which has been the case on so many occasions in the last few months. Even during the fire at the plantation house. It was a set-up, an artfully constructed plan, but why did it work in the first place? Because Klaus was out there challenging witches while he should have stayed close to his family. Because he felt better sending her off to the plantation house like a defenseless damsel than keeping her next to him. Because even his volatile moods are so very predictable to his enemies.

The house feels so much like an extension of himself these days. Empty and forlorn. A dark and damp environment that no longer feels like home.

Loneliness is so much harder to go back to after a respite.

Elijah persists. Sometimes Klaus wishes he wouldn't. The weight of his judgment hangs heavy over his head. His noble brother is one more reminder of all the ways in which Klaus is a disappointment. Elijah would've never allowed Caroline to leave. He would know exactly what to say to bring her back. Knowing that his brother is the better man only sours Klaus' mood further. He's not altruistic and magnanimous as Elijah; he would _never_ remove himself from the race in order to allow his incompetent, lesser sibling to fumble around while he tries, helplessly, to win the girl. And tonight, while the world dissolved into chaos and carnage took over at the Fête de Benediction, he heard Elijah's desperate screams for Caroline.

It's good to know his brother cares so deeply for her that he would do anything to protect her and the baby. But Klaus couldn't help the stab of jealousy. If Caroline ever decides she wants to give Elijah a chance, if she ever realizes how much time she's wasted putting her faith in the wrong Mikaelson, he doesn't think he'll be able to forgive Elijah. Even if it is all his fault, after all. That will be the thing that will break their famously unshakable bond apart.

Caroline is not Tatia. She's more.

He's not surprised to see his brother's hands covered in blood. Elijah hides behind his façade of chivalry, but he's ruthless, especially when someone he cares about gets hurt. While Klaus took care of removing Caroline from the tumult, he went after the culprits, the ones who dared to defy his explicit orders and stir chaos in what should’ve been a peaceful evening.

But Klaus can see it on his face that he's not yet satisfied.

"I see you've already taken care of avenging the dead," he says, chugging back his drink. "But judging by your look, you're still out for blood."

Elijah sighs, looking at his own red-stained hands. "If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results, then surely my quest for your salvation ranks me as one of the maddest of men."

Klaus snorts mirthlessly. "Come on, then. What horrible deed has the bastard done this time?"

Elijah's eyes glint with rage. "It was Marcel."

Klaus looks down at his glass, lips compressed into a distasteful line. He knew it had to have been him. It still hurts to get confirmation. "Is he dead?"

"Out of some disarranged consideration for Rebekah and for you, I spared his life. But I killed his co-conspirator, the man you released from the garden. Thierry Vanchure." Elijah prowls towards him. "But do you know why he did it? He got word of a certain deal you were cooking with the werewolves. A promise to offer them weapons to take over the Quarter."

Klaus ignores the twinge in his gut, his eyes unflinching.

"Do you know," Elijah continues. "In the past, I actually appreciated the methods to your manipulations. However, here we are, poised on the brink of a new era, which would benefit not only you and your home, but your child, and you go behind my back to conspire with wolves," Elijah bites out sharply, his words coated in spite.

Klaus puts his glass down and pushes himself up from his armchair to look at his brother levelly. "Conspire is hardly a word I would use for a family council. Lest you forget, Elijah, they are my family, as much as any Mikaelson - a name, in truth, I cannot call my own."

Bitter hurt flickers through Elijah’s eyes. "How casually you disavow a thousand years of allegiance towards you."

"Now that I've found the remnants of my other family, am I to ignore their plight? I would've thought you'd support my desire to help them, when in doing so I help Caroline and the child."

Elijah flashes to his face, pointing an accusatory finger at him, dark eyes boring holes into his. "Do not question my allegiance to that child," he grits out.

"I suppose your affection for Caroline has nothing to do with your tireless dedication, then." Klaus' eyes glint with malice. "You don't think I heard the way you called for her tonight? Screaming her name in the dark."

In a blur, Elijah grabs him by the lapel of his jacket and smashes him back against the wall, bright, simmering fury burning beneath his voice. "I have denied every single impulse I have ever had for that woman out of some misbegotten respect for intentions I don't even know that you have. While you conspire with witches and werewolves, she remains forsaken in the Bayou when, in reality, she should've never left this house. She did so because of _you_. And yet it's _your_ name she calls. It's in _your_ arms she seeks refuge and comfort. And you throw it all out with your petty, disgusting behavior."

Klaus grunts, hissing angrily at his brother. "I am warning you, Elijah -"

" _No_ ," he cuts in, an edge in his voice, pushing Klaus back against the wall. " _I'm_ warning _you_. I've forgiven you, Niklaus. I have stood by you. I've forsaken every single one of my desires in the name of your ridiculous redemption. I swear to you, by everything holy and sacred, if you don't fix the mess you have made... I will no longer restrain myself. If I want something, I will take it. And I'll let _nothing_ stand in my way. Not even you."

His brother stares him down, then snatches his half-empty bottle of bourbon and storms out.

 

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After everything that happened, Klaus wasn't planning on leaving the meek comfort of his bedroom tonight, favoring the company of a bottle of bourbon over human interaction. He's had enough of that for one evening. But after Elijah's open threat, he sobers up fairly quickly. So he takes his car and does what he's done tirelessly almost every single night for over a month now.

He drives all the way to the Bayou.

He ditches the car by the dirt road so no one will see him coming, then flashes his way across the woods to the Crescents’ camp. It keeps getting more and more crowded. Klaus has gotten word that packs from all over the state are flocking over to see the miracle baby. _His_ miracle baby. Elijah's said Caroline's terribly uncomfortable with the savior of the species label that seems to have been stamped over their daughter. Klaus honestly doesn't know what to think. He realizes this is intrinsically about him as well, since he is the werewolf half of their child, but he feels so far removed from those clans, those people... Objectively, he knows they're a part of him, descendants of a father whom he spent a good many decades of his early vampire life mourning, wishing he could’ve known him, wondering what his life would have been like if he’d been raised by the werewolves instead of Mikael. In a way, this whole situation has awakened a certain feeling of kinship in him. But he doesn't think he could ever share this pack mentality they have. Klaus is a lone wolf. Mikael always made sure to instill that in him, making him feel apart from his family even before he knew he had wolf blood running in his veins.

Caroline certainly seems a lot more at home among them than Klaus ever could.

They're sitting around a bonfire, Jackson, Oliver and that other woman that went with them to the festival. So they all made it out of there alive and unharmed. Caroline sits next to the alpha, a stiffening across her that Klaus can read from afar showing she is still a little shaken. But she seems... well. Talking. Laughing. Happy. No shadow of the anger and the disappointment she displayed at the compound.

Every night, Klaus comes here telling himself he will approach her, apologize and ask her to go back with him. Every night he finds her like this, utterly at ease, more comfortable than she's ever looked at their home. And every night he changes his mind.

It's not that he doesn't want her back. It's just that he wants it to be right. Klaus doesn't normally concern himself with that kind of thing, but when it comes to Caroline, he can't help it. He loves her too much to condemn her to a life of misery for the sake of his own ego.

 _Love_. His mind still snags at that word. That is what he feels for her. There is no other word. Love. It's as unfamiliar a feeling as it could ever be to someone like him. Took Klaus a long time to come to terms with it, understand that this feeling that brings him as much joy as it brings him pain, that takes him to the absolute highest and the lowest of lows, is love. It is both a gift and a curse. It can bring the best out of him, but it can also, as it’s often been the case, bring out the worst.

Being without Caroline is torture. He drives himself insane with worry, guilt punching holes in his chest each day that goes by and she remains in the Bayou. He loses a little bit more of his soul every time he comes out here only to go back empty-handed. But love makes Klaus do crazy things. It makes him care about her well-being more than about his own self interests. It makes him think of what is easy versus what is right. He could throw her over his shoulder and drag her back home kicking and screaming, hold her there until she gives up fighting. He would certainly not have any qualms doing so was it any other woman carrying his child. But Caroline… She’s not just any woman, and by force is not how he wants to have her.

Klaus is used to simply taking the things that he wants. When it comes to people, they normally want him back almost instantly. It's certainly not common that he has to work to have anyone's attention. With Caroline, he was forced to rethink everything, even his actions. All to please her. He desired her, yes, but not just that. It became clear quite soon that it wouldn't be enough just to have her. That would've been easy. The attraction was undeniably there right from the start; if all he'd wanted was to possess Caroline's body, he could've made that happen in a blink. She would've surrendered, beautifully. And then she would've hated herself for doing it.

What he wanted was for her to smile at him the way she smiled at Tyler. To look at him with the same kind of affection she directed at that fickle boy, to hug him with the same desperate need she hugged Tyler when she thought he was dying. Like she couldn’t breathe without him. And that... Isn't something that can be taken. It has to be earned.

Back then, he allowed her the freedom to follow her heart and be with whoever she wanted to be, even if it wasn't him. If Tyler Lockwood was what made her happy, then he would protect it as best as he could - until, of course, that mongrel broke her heart. Klaus told her once that he would've never let Tyler hurt her if he'd stayed sired to him, and he meant it. Now look at him... Hurting her himself with every breath he takes.

If what Caroline truly wants now is to be here in the Bayou, if that is what brings peace and happiness to her heart, he'll grant her that wish as well. Doesn't matter if he has to keep coming back every night just to put his spirit to rest, to assure himself that she is fine, well cared for and protected. He'll do it. Even if it kills him in the end. He loves her too much to walk away, but he also loves her so much that he'll even let her go.

Perhaps this is his divine punishment for all the evil he's caused, all the pain he’s inflicted upon others, for all the times he daggered Rebekah to keep her from pursuing her feelings and abandoning him, for having forced Elijah to forsake lovers and friends in order to follow him blindly into the darkness. His very own curse, born out of the rotten at his heart: to only ever know love through torment. The purest and most selfless of feelings causes him nothing but agony.

Klaus can't change who he is, no matter how hard he tries. Ancient dogs can't learn new tricks. For a thousand years, he's pleasured himself in taking these beautiful things, luminous and innocent, and smearing himself all over it, bringing it to ruin before it ever had a chance to influence him. But somehow Caroline has left a mark. Not even having a piece of Klaus growing inside of her was enough to dim her light, it hasn't quenched her spirit or crushed her soul. She persists, refuses to lose her essence, to let go of who she is, even if her life would be made so much easier if she just relented, and Klaus loves her all the more for it. She's a fighter, Caroline. Stronger than even she knows.

Klaus hasn’t had any dreams of a family since before his mother turned him into a monster. In a way, it was a relief to know he could never generate another life, pass on his cursed nature to an offspring. It goes without saying he’s never been fond of children. But he cannot think of anyone else he’d rather have one of his own with. Not because he’s suddenly looking forward to being a father, a thought that still very much terrifies him, but because Caroline is everything Klaus would ever want his own child to be. He doesn’t care if the werewolf gene is everything his own daughter inherits from him; if she turns out to be a spitting image of her mother in every other aspect, she’ll be perfect and he’ll be proud.

He won't force Caroline to come to him, not when he knows she would hate him for it. If he knew she was in danger, if he thought for even a second that these people wouldn't keep her safe, he would snatch her away. But he believes they care for her, the same way she cares for them. All he can hope for is that, despite everything he's done, there's at least a little part of her that still feels for him, still wants him, and one of these mornings she'll wake up missing him with the same excruciating fervor he misses her every single day. She'll find it in her heart to at least listen to what he has to say, to give him a second chance, and she will come back home. To him.

For her, he can be patient. He'll wait whatever he has to for this woman. However long it takes.

"You don't have to keep coming out."

Klaus doesn't have to turn to know it's that wolf woman, Eve. She's one of the closest ones to Caroline. Elijah's mentioned her a lot. She's quite stealthy; he didn't even hear her approaching, although he sensed her watching him ages ago.

"I see you, every time," she continues, softly, standing shoulder to shoulder with him. Unlike the rest of the werewolves, she doesn't feel hostile towards him, for whatever reason. "I'd tell you if something was wrong. But she's doing ok. That girl is something special. She surprised everyone."

Klaus smiles sadly. "Not everyone."

"She's very loved here. We'll take care of her. You don't have to worry."

"That is all I do."

Eve is quiet for a moment. "Would you like me to call her here, so you can talk? I would invite you to join us, but..." she trails off. She doesn't have to say it, really. His presence would start an uprising at the camp.

"What I want..." he starts, watching as Caroline throws her head back in merry-eyed laughter at something Jackson says. "What I want is for that girl to be happy." He finally turns to Eve, who peers at him with sympathetic eyes. "Don't tell her I was here," he says, and then blurs away into the night.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter felt really filler-y to me and I'm so worried about so many things. lol I considered skipping this episode altogether, but I realize there are some important developments here for future events. You guys don't know how many times I read this part. I can recite the whole thing from memory. So I'm really looking forward to your comments and opinions. :) 
> 
> But because this chapter feels filler-y and also it isn't one of the longest chapters, I am open to negotiating a quicker update. But you guys have to let me know how interested you are. If not enough people care, I'll just keep my schedule and you probably won't get another update until closer to the end of the year. I am totally motivated by your reactions. I know I keep saying that, but it's true. lol So let me know how you feel. ;)


	18. S01E18 An Unblinking Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys! **The Wolf** got nominated for a **[KC Award](https://kcawards.tumblr.com/)** , along with two other stories of mine. Holy crap! Thank you so much to everyone reading and commenting and kudosing and to whoever nominated this story for an award. I'm so flattered! 
> 
> This chapter hasn't been beta'ed and I am HAVING ISSUES right now. lol I know I say this all the time, but I'm SUPER NERVOUS and as soon you read it you'll understand why. I really hope you guys enjoy it! Please, forgive me for all the mistakes you'll surely find. I did my best!

* * *

"Can I help you find something, Niklaus?" Elijah offers courteously after hours listening to his raucous efforts around the house.

His brother has gone through four rooms already, leaving a trail of destruction behind him as he searches through shelves, desks, closets, wardrobes, dressers, trunks and anything else he can find, grunting incoherently as he does so.

Elijah was kind of enjoying it at the beginning, the dull satisfaction of rattling Niklaus' cage without moving a single finger. He knows exactly what he's looking for, of course - and he also knows that Klaus will never find it because he was very meticulous with hiding this precious item he so desperately seeks. Aggravating his brother wasn't _why_ he did it, but he has to admit that it is indeed quite vindicating - not to mention entertaining - to watch him squirm, especially after yet another betrayal.

Now, however, Klaus' fruitless struggle has started to lose its novelty. It was fun for the first hour or so, but Elijah's grown tired of all the _noise_ Niklaus makes as he tears down the house. The moodier he grows, the noisier he gets. He cannot stand to suffer quietly; the entire world needs to be aware of his fraying temper, loudly. Dramatic to the last strand of hair on his head, his little brother.

"Yes," Klaus grumbles as he pulls books out of the shelves in the study room. If he touches Elijah's collection of rare editions there will be war under their roof. "In fact, I believe you can. I'm looking for a book. About yay big, filled with our mother's most powerful spells. It appears to have been misplaced."

Elijah arches an unimpressed eyebrow, taking a seat behind the desk. "How very mysterious."

"Indeed. At first I feared the witches had succeeded in their efforts to obtain it, but considering their last attempt ended with me relieving a rather large tattooed gentleman of his hands, I began to wonder if the thief wasn't a bit closer to home." Klaus turns to him, scowling. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, brother."

"Well, admittedly, I did have a theory that your sudden interest in mother's grimoire was in some way related to whatever foolishness you've been conducting with the Crescent wolves. Therefore, I took it upon myself to carefully place it where naughty, little fingers could not pry." Elijah punctuates his sentence with a slight curl of his lips.

"And here I thought you of all people would understand I am simply trying to help those wolves, play Samaritan to the abused, champion to the underdog." He pauses, smirking, "So to speak."

"How splendidly noble of you."

Klaus scrubs a hand over his face, dropping the pretense of politeness, no longer keeping the bite out of his voice. "Have you ever considered that, like you, I am trying to keep Caroline safe, using our mother's magic to empower the people who have currently taken her in so that they are capable of protecting her?"

"Yes. Unless, of course, they decide to use that power to seek retribution for decades held in exile, in which case Caroline will suddenly find herself in the middle of an uprising, one that will only provoke further violence." Elijah stands to his feet, pointing a finger to his brother. "Your job, and I believe I made myself clear about it, is to get the mother of your child back to this home, where she will be safe under _our_ protection. Unless you have resigned yourself to your daughter being born in a swamp."

"And however would you have me do that, Elijah?" Klaus questions, gesticulating frantically. "I can't cuff Caroline to a bed and force her to stay. I have asked her to return, I have told her this is her home. She doesn't want to come back."

"Well, convince her. If you can use your charm to sweet-talk the werewolves, all of whom loathe you, into going against the pledge they've signed, then you can surely put that nasty tongue of yours to better use and convince her to come home."

A shadow crosses his brother's eyes, and Elijah knows what's going through his mind even before he says it.

"Why don't you give it a try?" he sneers, schooling his face not to betray anything, which in turn betrays everything. "What was it that you said? That you would _take_ whatever you want? _I won't let anything get in my way, Niklaus. Not even you._ " Elijah cocks an eyebrow at his appalling attempt at copying his voice. The accent is atrocious. "Well, then. Go ahead. Confess your love, Elijah. Tell her how desperately you miss her."

So typical... He always finds a way to turn an accusation around and somehow make himself out to be some kind of victim. Niklaus, a victim. How so very ludicrous. Elijah does not rise to the bait, though, considering his brother calmly for a moment. "Do you want to know the truth, Niklaus? I would, gladly, if I thought there was any chance it would find echo in her, if it would bring her back. At this point, hurting your feelings is positively the last item on my list of concerns. But despite all your paranoid fabrications, I know better. What I ask myself is... Why haven't _you_ done that yet? How much longer do you intend to hide from your responsibilities to that woman and her child behind some deluded idea that she's better off there, away from you and our family?"

"You don't know -"

"Oh, but I do know,” Elijah cuts him off, tersely. “Your logic is absolutely flawed and nothing you've done for the past month and a half makes any sense, but I happen to speak fluent Niklaus. You hurt her, and now you're scared of facing the consequences. You've realized you have actual expectations to live up to, and stakes will be even higher when your child is born, and it terrifies you - of course it does. For one thousand years, you've lived for no one but yourself. You've satisfied no one else's needs but your own. Whenever things didn't go your way, or anyone defied your tyrannical rules, you just stabbed them with a dagger and left them to rot in boxes until you felt either gracious or bored enough to let them out. But that won't work with Caroline. It won't work with your daughter. Now, you have to make amends, correct your mistakes, and you're finally starting to understand how painful it is to care about disappointing someone who has no familial obligation whatsoever to let you off the hook. Caroline's not me, she's not Rebekah. She never took an oath. She doesn't _have_ to forgive or tolerate you. You actually have to _earn_ her respect, and that just drives you out of your mind. Am I close?"

Klaus smiles bitterly, eyes slitted. "What are you now? My new therapist? At least Camille was easy on the eye."

"I'm better than a therapist. I'm your brother. And it is beyond me why I still care, because it is clear you are hell-bent on self-destructing, even when life smiles at you in a truly miraculous way that you don't even deserve. You've spent so long, Niklaus, soaked in darkness that you believe the natural way of things is for life to be miserable, grim and grey. For hatred to come to you as easily as breathing. You revel in it, because it's easy. It's simple. And selfish. God forbid you ever find anything that brings you real joy, or worse - _happiness_."

Klaus' face twists into a grimace, the glint in his eyes positively mutinous. "Just give me back mother's grimoire and stay out of my life, Elijah.”

"Would if I could, brother," he replies at last, around a deep sigh. "Unfortunately, as it was one hundred years ago, _your_ life is my life, too. You risk turning New Orleans into a war zone. And I will not let that happen."

"The drums of war were beating long before we returned. I suggest you use a little less of this," he motions his hands like a mouth talking. "And a little more of these," Klaus finishes, touching his ears and pursing his lips in a discontent pout as he storms out of the room.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"That's it, just take deep breaths. Inhale... And release... Again."

Caroline keeps her eyes closed, trying to block out all the other sounds and focus only on Eve's voice. It helps, she said, but it's really freaking hard, especially when she's so uncomfortable lying on a comforter on the wooden floor with her knees bent, her legs slightly apart, trying to prop herself up on her elbows.

Deep breaths. In... Out... This reminds her of the yoga classes she took a few years back, the instructor trying fruitlessly to teach her how to control her diaphragm. _"Your breathing is all wrong"_ , she kept saying, but no matter what Caroline did, she never seemed to grasp what the _right_ way of breathing was. "I'm freaking alive, aren't I? Then I must be doing something right, goddamnit", she grumbled - very lowly, to no one in particular - when she walked out of the class to never go back.

Now, years later, she's starting to regret that decision. Maybe mastering the not-as-involuntary-as-one-might-think movements of her diaphragm would be really helpful during birth. Not that Caroline ever thought she would be doing this in such a… old-fashioned way.

"Breathing is the secret. It helps you focus, keeps your mind distracted from the pain and discomfort," Eve explains. "It keeps you relaxed and allows you to hear exactly what your body is asking of you, like the right moment to start pushing."

Well, personally, Caroline thinks _relaxing_ is in direct contradiction to _going into labor_. She's in a moderate amount of discomfort after a while in this position and already the only message she's getting from her body is something on the lines of _get me the fuck out of here_.

Labor will be only about a billion times worse.

"Remind me again why I can't have an epidural?"

"You don't need an epidural," Eve says, smiling. "You're just worried."

"You think?” she snaps. “You haven't seen me freaking out, Eve. I'm worried _now_ ; when a little person starts pushing to come out of me, I'll go full birthzilla. You sure I can't do this in a hospital, with all the doctors and the drugs?"

"Honey, the werewolves have been having babies out here since before you were born. I've delivered dozens of babies myself."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" With some difficulty, Caroline pushes herself up into a sitting position. Every day is an adventure trying to figure out where her gravity center has gone off to. "I'm not a werewolf. Not even close. And don't tell me my child is, because unless you tell me werewolf babies are born the exact same size of a _puppy_ , it doesn't make a difference."

Eve chuckles, shaking her head. "Stop worrying, Caroline."

"I'm sorry," she sighs ruefully. "I’m sorry. But just so you know, you should expect to get snapped at _a lot_ when this little decides to out. I'm a worrier, it's what I do. I worry about everything, and bringing a child into this world is only the most important thing I've ever done. We're mere weeks away from it and I still have no clue what the hell I'm doing with my life, so yeah, I'm a _little_ concerned over here."

Eve leans forward, places a comforting hand on her shoulder, catching her eyes. "Breathe," she says. "Every new mom has a moment of insecurity. It's a huge responsibility. But when the time comes, you'll know exactly what to do. Trust me."

And she does. Caroline has been slowly but surely slipping into a state of panic as she gets closer to her due date, but all it takes is a few reassuring words from Eve and immediately she feels better. Sure, it’s temporary relief, only until her mind can come up with new and improved ways to freak her out, but it at least keeps her from falling apart by losing it completely all at once. Eve has this aura of peace and harmony around her, exuding a kind of quiet confidence that makes it impossible for anyone to disagree with her. And even when you do, you just _want_ her to be right so badly that you can't help but trust that she knows what she's saying.

When she first approached Caroline about delivering the baby, it sounded so crazy an idea that Caroline laughed. Caroline Forbes, having a baby in the middle of a swamp? It had to be a joke. But then Eve started introducing her to moms with toddlers and babies, and she realized it was serious. And more than that, Eve actually seemed to be very good at it.

The idea of not having any doctors - or drugs, mostly drugs - conveniently around still scares the shit out of Caroline. She's her mother's daughter, after all. Being ready and having contingency plans B, C, D and E is kind of her thing. But now she can't really imagine not having Eve there with her, even if she does end up going to a hospital. It would scare her all the same.

"You're right. I'm being difficult," she concedes. "But it's not just giving birth that’s doing my head in. Actually, that might be the least of my concerns. Once I get the baby out I will _have_ a baby. And then what? I don't know if I'm ready for this. I haven't read all the books I was supposed to, haven't done all the researches, watched all the millions of specialized YouTube channels, haven't talked to a pediatrician... What if I... well, suck?"

Eve tilts her head to the side and makes a face. "You're the only one who doubts yourself, Caroline. I don't think there's anything in this world you can't do, let alone be a mom. You'll be great."

She tries not to smile, but Eve's absolute certainty tug the sides of her lips upwards anyway. "You really think so?"

"I _know_ so."

"I hope you're right. As fun as it is to imagine Klaus changing dirty diapers, I'm pretty sure that I'll be doing this alone,” she mutters, bitterness edging into her voice.

Eve gives her an enigmatic look, shrugging. "I somehow doubt that."

Caroline narrows her eyes at the other woman. "What do you know that I don't?"

"Nothing. I'm just saying. You might -"

The loud roar of a motorcycle engine outside interrupts Eve. They both turn to the open door, craning their necks to try and see what's going on. No one is allowed to come this near the camp with any kind of vehicle because of the children running around.

"Stay here," Eve says, leaving to go check out what all the fuss is about.

"Eve!" Caroline whines. She could use the help getting up. On her own, she holds onto the bed and pulls herself to her feet. When she steps out, Jackson and Oliver are already approaching a guy she's never seen before on a motorcycle, parked right in the middle of all the tents and trailers - exactly where he's not supposed to be.

"Who the hell are you?" Jackson demands.

"Who's in charge here?" the man retorts.

"Who's asking?"

The man gives Jackson a good once over and, apparently satisfied with the conclusion he gets to, smiles.

And then everything goes up in the air.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Klaus stifles a tired sigh as he hears Elijah crying out for him.

What has he done now?

" _Niklaus_!"

"Here we go," he mutters, putting down his brush and cleaning his hands with a cloth before walking out to the walkway overlooking the courtyard.

When he sees the desperate expression on Elijah's face, however, a cold shiver runs down Klaus’ spine.

"There's been a bomb," Elijah says urgently. "In the Bayou." He pauses, swallowing down hard. "I can't reach Caroline."

His brother is not even done speaking before he's dashing out. Klaus is unaware of even thinking, but suddenly he's moving, jumping from the second floor and jetting out after Elijah.

They barely speak on the way to the Bayou - Klaus drives like a madman while Elijah keeps trying to reach Caroline, his grunts growing increasingly angrier every time he gets the voicemail beep.

Klaus' head is spinning, his pulse raging inside his skull. A _bomb_. Of all the things he's lost nights of sleep over, obsessively worrying about, a bomb has never been one of them. It never occurred to him, fighting a supernatural war against witches and vampires, that one of them would use something as banal and lowly as a bomb. He suddenly feels naive for disregarding such a _human_ threat. It’s easy to forget that, however powerful, werewolves - and witches - are still mortal.

They drop the car by the road and flash themselves the rest of the way to the camp. The scent of fire and blood and some other strong, acrid smell slam into his senses before the sounds consolidate. Screaming. Crying. Painful wails. He tries to quell his hammering heart, punching ferociously against his sternum, tries to smother the bile rising to his throat. But all his efforts to rein himself in are rendered useless when they finally get to the site of the explosion.

Fear lashes through Klaus as he takes in the devastation all around. He spots the remains of something bent and twisted in the middle of the camp, charred and still smoking. That's where the acrid smell is coming from, and suddenly he realizes what it is. "Wolfsbane," he tells Elijah. "The bomb had wolfsbane in it."

Whoever did this wasn't just looking to scare the wolves. They wanted to kill them. Once the werewolves trigger their curse, their bodies become naturally stronger, more resilient, and they can heal small wounds almost as fast as vampires. The attack was meant to weaken them, make them unable to recover from even non-lethal injuries whilst causing as much pain as possible. Those wounded fatally would be dead within minutes.

Elijah presses his lips tightly together, his eyes flashing. "Let's find her."

The damage wasn't small. The tents and some of the motorhomes closer to the explosion are ruined. There's blood all over, dozens lying around. Nobody seems dead, not the ones he can see, but some are in bad shape. The place is engulfed in chaos and it's hard to focus on anything over the sounds of mayhem. Klaus' eyes rake over every single person as they make their way through the camp, and when he sees a mane of blonde hair on the floor, for just a split-second, panic licks through him like wildfire. His mind isn't clear, and all he thinks is _please, please, please, let it not be her, let this not be true, let her be alive_.

"Oliver!" Elijah bellows next to him, catching sight of Jackson's sidekick.

The little man approaches them with murder in his eyes and a bright purple bruise on the side of his face. His light hair and clothes are all blackened and covered in dirt. He must've been close to the explosion.

"Caroline?" Elijah demands, going straight to the point.

Oliver bobs his head towards the cabin she's been sharing with that woman, Eve. "In there."

The two of them dash off towards the place, and Klaus notices the glass windows have been blown apart. He stops a few feet away, balling his hands into tight fists, unable to move any further. A paralyzing fear coils around Klaus' stomach like a snake, a foul taste in his mouth. He doesn't think he can take if Caroline... If she is...

He gives his brother a meaningful look, a silent plea passing between them. Elijah nods his head shortly and goes ahead first, his throat moving slowly as he swallows down nervously.

Klaus keeps his eyes trained on his brother's face, holding his breath. Elijah hesitates for a moment before pushing the door open. He takes a couple of steps in, and his shoulders immediately sag with relief. Klaus' heart lurches, the pressure in his chest easing away, and he takes a steadying breath at last. Elijah turns back to him, nodding, and only then he follows his brother into the cabin.

Caroline is sitting on a chair by the bed, her head bent low, hands folded across her lap. She looks disheveled; dirt on her hair, a tiny speck of blood on her cheek, her clothes sullied. She couldn't have been far from the explosion. Klaus' eyes rake over her with surgical precision, in search of any signs of injury, but she doesn't seem to be hurt. Not physically, at least. When he finally walks in, she lifts her head to look, and he can see her tear-streaked face. The pain and sorrow in her eyes hit Klaus like a punch to the stomach.

For a long moment, Caroline is all he notices, but then, slowly convincing himself she's safe, that he can look away and she won’t vanish right before his eyes, he finally pays attention to her surroundings. Jackson is standing not far behind her, his face severely bruised, blood running down the sides of his head and staining his shirt. The expression on his face is hard and grim, his eyes darkened and feral. He looks stiff, like a person who tries to stop himself from shivering, and Klaus realizes he must be hurt, even though there's no pain registered anywhere on his face. All Klaus sees there is something he's extremely familiar with: wild rage.

The reason for Caroline's anguish and Jackson's rage is lying on the bed. Eve. Her face is stained with blood, but her skin is ashen, her lips pale like wax, her face awfully peaceful. But there's not a breath left in her lungs. Not a beat in her chest. She's gone.

He exchanges a look with Elijah.

"What happened?" his brother questions quietly.

"They attacked us," Jackson replies, his voice a low, angry rumble. "Those bloody vampires."

"How do you know it was the vampires?"

Jackson's eyes cut to them like thunder. "A guy rode in here on a motorcycle, took off his helmet and blew himself up, his tank filled with wolfsbane. Who do you think compelled him to do that? Those _cowards_ ," he snarls.

Elijah turns to Klaus, keeping his voice low. "I'll go find out who gave the order for this." He glances at Caroline, his gaze softening for just a moment before he turns away again. "Stay here."

Klaus feels a protest rising to his lips, but it drops almost as quickly. He looks back at Caroline, her short gasps of breath ridden with grief as she tries to swallow back the tears, and feels terribly inadequate. His presence is hardly associated with comfort. And he doesn't even know if Caroline wants him to be here. Elijah would certainly be better at it than he ever could, just as he was when she was struck by the cursed fever that almost cost them their daughter. Klaus retaliates, explodes in rage; he lashes out and avenges and self-destructs. Violence is the only way he knows how to process sorrow and sadness. Seeing Caroline like this... It makes him itch to spill blood.

He ran away from his responsibilities before, let his brother's collected sobriety take his place, because he couldn’t bear to see Caroline in such pain and not be able to do anything to make it better. And just like then, he feels that the best he could do for her right now might to chase after the culprits for the attack and paint the city red with their innards whilst inflicting a slow, horrible death upon them for what they've done, even if the order came from Marcel. Klaus is exceedingly good at paybacks.

However... There's something different this time. Something bigger, stronger, holding him in place, keeping him from bolting. A new sense of accountability he never had before. He understands with sudden clarity that there is a job for him here that goes beyond whether or not he'll be any good at it. He wants to make sure Caroline will be ok, that she'll be safe and that the baby is unharmed, and he realizes... This is his part. No one else's. Doesn't matter if he hasn't got a clue of what to say, if Elijah would know how to soothe her pain more effectively. Being here, with her, is what a father should do, and for the very first time, Klaus feels like one, even if for terrible reasons.

They didn't just hurt the woman he loves, who happens to be pregnant. They hurt his family.

"I have to go check on the people," Jackson announces. He gives Caroline's shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaving. And then it's just the two of them.

She lets out a sobbing breath, wiping her face with the dirty back of her hands. Klaus shifts his weight on his feet, bowing his head, until his eyes settle on Eve's still form again. He recalls the last time he saw her, right after the fiasco at the witches' festival. How warm she was towards him, how understanding, even though he'd never spoken to her before. He'd seen her with Caroline around the camp, and knew they were sharing a cabin, so he figured they must be close, but on that night he felt just how much the werewolf woman really cared about her. They were friends. In a city where everyone wants everyone else dead, a true friend is as rare as a peaceful day. And now she's gone.

Sadness descends upon him, then, along with an impossible sense of loss. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, crouching down next to Caroline.

She keeps her eyes on her hands, covered in dirt and shaking. Klaus wants to reach out and steady her, but he holds back. "Eve was a good person," she chokes out.

"I know."

"She hadn't even triggered her curse yet. There wasn't a bad bone in her body."

"I'm sorry, Caroline."

She shakes her head, turning her face just enough to look at him. "What kind of monster would do that?"

He hates the ache on her face, hates the tears pricking at her eyelashes, the way her chin quivers. It pierces his heart, makes him want to put his arms around her and shield her from anything that would dare harm her. Klaus feels the familiar simmer of rage at the pit of his stomach as it rears its ugly head inside of him, bringing with it the undisputable certainty that he would burn down the whole world if anything ever happened to her.

"I don't know," Klaus replies softly. "But we will find out. And we will bring them to justice."

There's a long silence before she speaks again, tentatively. "Do you think... Do you think it was me?"

"What do you mean?"

"The target of the attack. Do you think they were aiming for me? For the baby?"

Klaus clenches his jaw. That was the first thing to cross his mind, in fact. Caroline has been at the heart of many of the attacks orchestrated across town. It's hard to tell what the goal behind this was - to hurt the wolves, to kill his child, to send him a message... Until they know for sure, no possibilities can be discarded. Whoever it was, they have to be annihilated. That's the only certainty.

If it really was Marcel, he would have more reasons to want to take down a few wolves than just Caroline, but getting her would be the perfect revenge on both him and Elijah. It could also be the witches, of course; they want the wolves gone as bad as the vampires and have also tried to murder the baby several times before, claiming she is the devil incarnate. Or it could be someone else entirely. In New Orleans, you never know. Friends are few and enemies never seem to stop climbing out of the sewers when you least expect.

Klaus' mind goes back to Genevieve. After completely ignoring her for days, he gave her a parting gift that is likely to have made her quite miffed: the mutilated hands of the man she sent into the compound to steal the grimoire. Part of him realized at the time that perhaps meekness was in order when dealing with a powerful witch, but temperance has never been one of Klaus' strongest marks, and he just couldn't stand the sight of her anymore. He figured he ought to make a strong point in order to get the message across. Now he wonder if his petulant impulsiveness has made yet another innocent victim.

He avoids her eyes as he speaks, swallowing past the uncomfortable lump in his throat. "I don't know. I suppose it could be anything."

Caroline takes another deep, broken breath, straightening her back. She looks long and hard at Eve, and then stands to her feet, wiping her eyes, her expression completely changed. Where there was only sorrow and grief, now there's a fire burning, like sheer determination.

"What are you doing?" he questions as he pulls himself up as well.

"I have to go help," she says, trying to walk by him.

Klaus puts his hands forward, standing rooted in her path. "You need to sit down for a bit, love. You've been hurt."

"I'm fine."

"What about the baby?"

Caroline places a protective hand on top of her belly. "She's ok."

"Still -"

"Klaus," she cuts him with an edge in her tone. "There are people out there who got seriously injured. Who are terrified. Elders. Children. People like Eve, who don't have the strength or the power to heal. They need help."

"It's not safe for you to stay here," he pleads. "Whoever did this could come back to finish the job."

"These people welcomed me here with open arms and I might be the very reason they were attacked. I'm staying," she says with a steadfast resolve Klaus knows only too well.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Good. You're welcome to help. They're your people too."

Klaus sighs as Caroline marches out of the cabin. He glances at Eve’s body again, feels a pull in his chest. "I'm sorry," he mutters under his breath, covering her with a sheet before chasing after Caroline.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

The air outside the cabin is noise and madness, and there are so many people in need of help that Caroline barely has any time to think. It's terrible, but she welcomes the chance to do something productive instead of letting grief consume her whole.

As far as she can tell, Eve was the only casualty, but some people got severely injured. Luckily, the worst cases seem to be wolves who had triggered their genes, so the healing process is quicker, although still made slower by the amount of wolfsbane in the bomb. She uses a few quick concoctions and a spell to ease away the pain and make them more comfortable while they heal.

The camp is overcrowded with people from all over the place, but the biker man seemed intent on reaching the Crescents, driving into the heart of their area. The chaos it generated, however, meant there were lots of children getting lost from their parents, people desperate to find family and friends and a few getting hurt as they tried to escape. Many have already fled, she notices. She can't help but feel responsible for that, too. It was her presence that dragged all these pilgrims here.

She's just finishing patching up the arm of a girl who got cut in the trees as she ran away from the explosion when a woman named Karen taps her on the shoulder, a grim look on her face. "You should come with me."

Caroline follows Karen for ten seconds before she starts to hear the biting sounds of a fiery argument. And the loudest - and angriest - voice is quite clearly Klaus'.

He said he wouldn't let her out of his sight, but there was a lot to be done around the camp and it seemed to her like it was a waste of manpower to have a hybrid just walking around her like a shadow when the wolves could clearly use a hand with the heavy lifting and carrying the injured to the treatment cabins. Not that the werewolves were eager to take Klaus' help, or that he was all that happy to offer. But Caroline's persuasive glares spoke louder in the end. If he was going to stay, he might as well make himself useful. They are distant relatives of his, after all, descendants of his clan. Even if they are not exactly warm toward him, they’re still his people.

The amount of work quickly swamped both of them and they ended up getting separated. At least he was helping out, Caroline thought, going where he was needed rather than wherever she went. Maybe _she_ should've been the one to keep an eye on _him_.

She finds him bickering with Tucker, the ribs guy, and his wife, Fatima.

"What is going on here?" she demands, pulling Klaus back a little.

Julian, the couple's teenage son, is lying on a gurney on the ground, his face sick and pale, coughing up blood. There's a large wound right under his left shoulder, and it seems to have pierced his lungs. He just turned thirteen a couple of weeks ago, she was at his birthday. Too young to have triggered his curse.

"Oh God," she mutters grimly.

"Apparently these parents of the year here want to see their son dead within the hour," Klaus accuses.

Caroline frowns, confused, looking from Klaus to Tucker and Fatima. "What?"

"That freak is trying to poison him!" Tucker spits out angrily, pointing a finger at Klaus' face.

Caroline puts a hand on his forearm and gently pulls it down, more to his safety than anything else. It won't take much for Klaus to rip off his finger or break his arm like a twig. "Poison?"

"I'm simply trying to feed him my blood. In case it isn't obvious, the child is going to die."

"You vampires are the reason this happened in the first place," Tucker yells again while Fatima quietly weeps. "Stay away from our son!"

"He's a werewolf, too," Caroline blurts out before Klaus can retort with something offensive and absurd that will only anger them further. Werewolves consider vampires to be abominations. It is in their nature to hate them, oppose them, fight them. To drink their blood is unthinkable, an outrage, especially to a proud and old pack such as the Crescents. After everything they've suffered at the hands of vampires over the years, and what has happened today... The last thing they want is to accept help from one. But Klaus isn't wrong. Julian is going to die. At this point, he wouldn’t even survive the long ride to the nearest hospital. "Before he was turned into a vampire, he was like you."

"Can't you do anything, Caroline?" Fatima asks, her voice small and frail. It breaks Caroline's heart; she’s still pregnant but already she’s been in Fatima’s place, afraid of losing her child. She knows exactly what how suffocating and despairing this helplessness is.

"I'm sorry, but I can’t. I can't heal him. All I can do is remove the pain, but... He's dying, Fatima. He's too severely injured, his body is filled with wolfsbane and he hasn't triggered his gene yet. He’s too weak to resist. Klaus' blood will heal him and in a day or two it'll be completely out of his system." She pauses, lifting her eyes to Tucker. "You've been gracious in welcoming me into your camp, even though I'm not a werewolf."

"Your daughter will be one of us," Tucker grumbles.

"Yes. And that's because of him," she says, taking a hold of Klaus’ arm. "He's where the werewolf side came from. I know you don't want to do this, and I can totally understand. But I also know that I would do _anything_ to save my daughter. It's just a tiny bit. Please."

Tucker and Fatima exchange a look heavy with implication, their faces contorted with doubt and anguish, and then they turn away. Caroline nods at Klaus but, before he crouches down next to the boy, she motions for him wait, walks away for a moment and returns with a bowl. It'll probably be easier for them if they don't have to see their kid feeding directly from Klaus' vein.

He bites on his hand and lets the blood drip into the bowl. Caroline's lips curl into a bare hint of a smile as she takes it from him, holding on his arm for balance as she kneels down next to Julian.

"It's ok, sweety," she whispers. "You're going to be alright. Drink this." She puts a hand on the back of his neck to crane his head and takes the bowl to his lips. He's so weak he doesn't even know what she's giving him, just makes a face at the taste. But a second later, his entire body goes slack and he stops coughing, his breath normalizing as he lies back down. The color returns to his cheeks, still shy because of all the blood he lost, but the wound on his shoulder is instantly closed.

Caroline sighs in relief, looking up at the parents as their eyes brim with tears.

"You're welcome, by the way," Klaus grunts, and Caroline slaps his leg as she pulls herself up, glaring.

She wraps a hand around his arm and drags him away then, leaving the parents to care for their son. "Don't push it."

"They would've let their child die out of some misbegotten prejudice -”

"Because they're scared. Everyone thinks it was the vampires who attacked the camp. They're not fans to begin with and right now they're feeling less than gracious towards anyone with fangs. Just... Let them be. They've suffered enough." She pauses, her tone softening. "And you did something very nice for that kid. You were incredibly rude…” Klaus rolls his eyes. “But you insisted to save him. Thank you."

He nods almost bashfully, that blazing indignation dissolving into something far gentler as his eyes settle on her. “Caroline -”

" _Help_!" They both swivel their heads around, to a guy standing close to the trailers. "There's someone trapped under here! I need help!"

Caroline just looks at him and Klaus is already stalking off towards the guy. The effort doesn't even register on his face when he lifts the entire thing up on his own while the other man dives underneath to rescue whoever got trapped. It’s like the trailer is made of cardboard.

Everything about this situation is awful: her friend is dead, people are injured, scared, in need of help, of guidance. But all the work and the mayhem are having a numbing effect on her. Caroline is certain that, once the adrenaline wears off and there’s no one else to patch up, no more cries for help, no more lost children to be reunited with their moms, the true weight of this tragedy will hit, _hard_ , and it’ll all feel a thousand times worse. But suddenly she finds her lips curling up into a tiny, timid smile.

Klaus stayed to keep an eye on her and, instead, he's been going up and down the camp, helping out despite the obvious glares being shot in his direction. He'll find no warm feelings for him in this place, but that doesn't matter in a time like this. Klaus just ignores the general scorn and goes wherever he can help. And, for the most part, she didn't even need to ask. Things would be a lot harder without a vampire around to give a hand. For starters, Julian would be dead.

Caroline's even afraid to think it, but... In the light of tragedy, he might actually be starting to show some progress.

She returns to the communal cabin, now turned into a makeshift infirmary to tend to the wounded, with mattresses spread on the floor so people can rest and heal while their werewolf genes fight the poison in their systems. Caroline stops by to check on some of the people she's already seen to and then goes back to mixing more of her concoctions. Eve taught her about this one, which only uses herbs native to the Bayou area. Her eyes fill with tears again and she starts crunching the herbs with a lot more intent.

And then another bomb goes off.

And another.

The whole structure shakes and rattles, there’s a collective scream, followed by sobs and curses.

"Is everyone ok?!" she yells, blood turning to ice in her veins. Everywhere she turns there are terrified wide eyes, but nothing seems to have been affected here. The explosions were big, but it sounded like it came from a bit further, around the heart of the camp, where the biker man detonated the first bomb.

Once she's certain everyone's fine there, she goes out. Her head spins, blood draining from her face. For the second time today, she is engulfed by the sensation of walking into a nightmare. People are running from side to side, screaming, crying... Her heart contracts painfully as an all too familiar panic crashes onto her.

She follows the dark smoke rising in the air and makes her way across the camp, going against the flow of people running from the explosions. Two of the motorhomes are on fire. She spots Oliver walking towards her, a little dizzy, nearly tripping over his own legs. Caroline rushes towards him, steadying him up.

"Are you ok?"

He coughs. "Yeah. Just my ears are ringing."

"What happened?"

"More bombs. Under the trailers," he says between coughing fits.

Caroline curses under her breath. "Was anybody there?"

Oliver shakes his head. "He yelled for us to get away. We all ran. Some people were thrown off their feet, but... I don’t think anybody got hurt."

"Who yelled?"

"Klaus."

Caroline's stomach turns as she whips around to the fire. The trailers are completely destroyed. Just huge metal carcasses, all blackened and twisted into an unrecognizable form. No one could've survived a blast of that magnitude if they'd been near enough. If Klaus told everyone to run, that means he saw the bombs first. And if he did, he would've run himself. So where the hell is he?

She lets go of Oliver, her eyes frantic as she searches around for him. "Klaus!" she yells, her voice coming out scratchy with despair. " _Klaus_!"

"Caroline." She spins around, but it's Jackson. He trots over to her, grabs a hold of her wrist when she tries to go in the direction of the explosion. "You can't go there."

"Have you seen Klaus?" she asks uneasily, not quite keeping the rising exasperation at bay. God, her heart his beating _so loud_ she can barely hear Jackson.

He shakes his head apologetically. "I only heard him. He saved a lot of lives."

"But where is he?!" She shakes him off, starts ambling again. "Klaus!"

Despair claws at the back of her throat, her vision blurring from the tears pricking behind her eyes as she continues to call out to him. Horrible fright uncurls inside of her and Caroline feels the last of her strength ebbing away. She covers her mouth with her hand and bites down a sob. It's too much. Today has been too much. The attacks. All the people who got hurt, who lost their homes, who went through the horror of trying to locate their loved ones in the middle of all that chaos. Eve.

If anything happens to Klaus...

" _Klaus!_ " A howl of pure anguish, hot tears flee-flowing down her face now.

"Caroline, you can't go there," Jackson repeats in a patient tone, trying to gently hold her back while she fights him off. “It could explode again.”

"He could need help!"

"He's immortal."

"It was a fucking bomb, Jackson!" she snaps at him.

"Caroline."

" _I have to find him_!"

"No. Look." Jackson bobs his head to the side.

She follows Jack’s gaze and finds him, coming out of the wreckage of the farthest trailer with someone in his arms. He's limping, his face ashen and hardened like he’s concentrating really hard on staying up, blood covering his left cheek and his neck. He's slow, too slow for someone of his strength, someone who can lift an entire freaking trailer with his pinky. _He's hurt._

But he's alive.

 _Alive_.

She draws a hoarse, sobby breath, feeling as something tiny and fragile tugs inside her chest, relief washing through her.

"That's Jimmy," Jackson says urgently as he rushes towards Klaus, taking the boy from his hands. Jimmy whimpers, and Caroline sees a large gash on one of his legs. It looks ugly, but not fatal. "Oliver!" Jackson shouts, beckoning his friend over. "Take him inside. Ask someone to bandage his leg," he commands, passing the boy over to Oliver, who then rushes with him towards the main cabin.

And then Klaus collapses, falling on his hands and knees with a loud, pain-laden grunt.

Caroline lets out a horrified gasp when she finally gets a look at his back. It's... Destroyed. Burnt. Bloodied. His clothes frayed, torn apart. Chunks of metal and wood, some as big as stakes, are buried deep into his flesh, keeping his wounds from healing. The amount of pain he must be in...

"There..." he grits out with difficulty, blowing air through his nose. "There could be... More..."

Caroline looks at Jackson, who nods with understanding. "I'll take my guys. We'll search through the whole camp." He turns, already barking orders at his men.

"Klaus..." Caroline whispers, leaning over. "Can you stand?"

It takes him a moment, but he manages to pull himself up, nearly crumpling down again in the process. She catches him, putting one of his arms around her shoulders, careful not to touch his wounds. "Come on," she murmurs, guiding him across the camp to Jackson's private cabin. It's further away and they'll get more privacy there. She's sure Jackson won't mind, given the circumstances.

The walk is slow and arduous. Klaus is stiff, his teeth clenched so tightly Caroline can see the strain on his jaw, trying really hard not to give in to pain. When they make it to the cabin, she helps him to a chair, making sure he straddles it so she can have a good look at his back. Klaus all but collapses on the chair, his knees completely buckling under his weight. The way his breath is shallow and harsh, the damage probably goes much deeper than what she sees on the surface. Hemorrhages, shattered ribs, lacerated organs... He'll be dead in just a bit if she's not quick. Not that it would be entirely bad; if he's dead, he won't feel any pain while she works on cleaning his wounds to allow his body to work its magic. But Caroline doesn't think she can stomach any more deaths today. Not even a temporary one.

Now that they're inside, the smell of burned flesh fills her nostrils. She swallows down hard as bile rises to her throat, mashing her eyes shut to keep from retching. How Klaus can stand all of this, fight through the pain, walk out of that fire with someone in his arms and his body not only in shatters, but likely filled with wolfsbane as well, is a testament to how strong he is. No one else in this world would've survived that explosion in one piece. The threat of tears pricks at her eyes again, but she shakes them off, drawing the air in slowly.

 _Ok, Caroline,_ she thinks to herself. _Focus._

She searches around a bit for a bowl and fills it with water, taking also a piece of cloth and a pair of scissors. The first thing she does is a spell for the pain. The way his wounds are, it won't matter that much, but it'll at least help him relax. Immediately he seems to recover some of his energy, which she takes as an incentive to keep going. Then, she starts to cut his clothes off of him, as gently as possible.

"I hope you didn't like this jacket," she speaks with a lightness she does not feel, trying to distract her own mind. Klaus winces every now and then, but bears it incredibly well.

The work is slow and methodical; parts of his shirt have literally adhered to his skin where the burns were worse, and she tries to cut around those, removing the pieces of charred cloth bit by bit. It’s clear Klaus used his body to shield that boy from the explosion, absorbing the worst of the blast. Yes, he's an immortal, but other vampires would’ve been toast for good there. Who knows what the hell happens when an Original gets blown to shreds? Do they grow back?

Twice today Klaus has saved the lives of people he couldn't care less about, and not because anybody asked him to. He just... Did the right thing. The heroic thing. He's been around all day, helping, making himself available and useful. She'd rather not have to be cutting pieces of his clothes off his skin now, but... He did something good. Something great. And Caroline can’t help the little part of her that feels proud of him. The greatest part of her, however, is still very much scared.

Once she's done with the scissors, she helps him remove the remains of what used to be very expensive shirt and jacket. It gives an even clearer view of the terrible injuries he’s sustained. It'll take forever to pull it all out piece by piece. It'll be torture and he won't resist it. Caroline will be damned if she'll have Klaus dying in her arms today.

"Ok," she says, taking a step back. "I'll remove it all at once, but it's gonna hurt like a bitch. Are you ready?"

"Do your worst,” he hisses out.

Caroline shuts her eyes, puts her hands forward and concentrates. It's a very delicate spell and she never used it to remove little bits of _stuff_ from someone’s body. If she goes too deep, she risks ripping him to shreds. But it's Klaus, and it's important, so she'll get this goddamn thing right if it's the last thing she does.

She chants lowly under her breath, feeling as magic roars through her skin, heat rushing through her as the spell starts to take effect. A light breeze sweeps in through the windows, and then, all at once, all the debris stuck to Klaus' flesh and attached to his skin are pulled out. A roar of pain rips from his chest, his whole body going rigid, but almost as soon as it's over, he starts to heal. Caroline wets the cloth in the water, wiping the blood off his neck and back. She feels his heart hammering away inside of him, his breathing harsh still, but not like there's something scratching his lungs, and slowly it goes back to normal.

In a few seconds, his skin looks as smooth as ever. Not a single scar to tell the story of his heroics.

Klaus stands up, turns around. He still looks unusually pale, blood stains around his ears and the corners of his mouth, but his expression has softened considerably, even if she can still see the ghost of pain in his eyes. The way he looks at her just then - with a warm intensity, a desperate kind of _need_ that finds echo in her chest - disarms something in her. It’s like the flip of a switch: Caroline goes from holding up to falling apart.

Suddenly, she feels everything - exhaustion, fear, grief, it all hits her like a blow, aching and heavy. Her composure slips away from her, all that strength that's kept her up and going all day drains away as though someone has just pulled a plug inside of her. For a few heartbeats, she just stares at him before her face crumples and violent sobs wreck through her chest. She finds herself reaching out, burying her face in the curve of his neck, and being instantly embraced with just as much ardor. Klaus places a gentle, long kiss on the top of her head, and it's ridiculous that _he_ is comforting _her_ when he's the one who almost got blown up just now, but it’s exactly what he’s doing, and she needs this - needs _him_ \- more than she needs her next breath.

She lets it all out, the whirlwind of emotions that have struck her cold today. All the grief, the loss, the helplessness. The terror that shook her to her core. For a minute there, all reason abandoned her and the fact Klaus is nearly indestructible didn't reach the rational part of her brain. All she could think was that a _bomb_ had gone off and it was virtually impossible for anyone, supernatural or not, to survive that. All she could think was that she'd lost him, that she’d lost Eve and then she lost Klaus, and it was too much for her to bear.

She wants to scream, to rage and to disappear. But, for now, she resigns herself to wrapping the scent of him - not of ash, or blood, or wolfsbane; of _Klaus_ \- around herself and never, ever coming out.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It's a powerful outpour of emotions, an avalanche of anguish and dread and anger, all mashed into one, and by the way her fingers are digging into his skin and how tightly she's holding him, Klaus knows that Caroline just needs him to be there. No words necessary. For once this is something he can give her without botching it all up. He breathes her in, shutting his eyes as his hand slides up and down her back in a soothing caress.

She's not the only one who needs a moment, though. Klaus takes a second to gather his thoughts, quiet down the riot in his own head. He’s no stranger to violent attacks of this sort, but it's not every day he gets subjected to such agonizing, incapacitating pain he can barely tolerate it. His wounds have all closed, and the ache itself is gone, but the phantom sensation of it lingers, echoing across his nerves.

He wasn't sure there would be anything left of him, to be honest. He could feel himself disintegrating under the heat and the sheer force of the blast. He was about to dash off when he saw the boy, a gash on his leg keeping him from getting away fast enough, paralyzed in fear as he realized he was going to die there. Klaus didn't really think; he just grabbed the kid and turned his back to the parked trailer, ground his teeth hard, and hoped for the best.

He wasn't scared, didn't fear for his life or anything of the sort, but the last thing that occurred to him right before the bomb went off was Caroline. If she was far enough away from there, if she could somehow get caught up in the explosions. He knew he'd be helpless to do anything about it, at least for a while, too weakened by the injuries he was about to sustain. If there was anything left of him at all, that is. And _that_ made him worried - for a fraction of a second, anyway. Then everything went up in the air and there was no more room for anything but the excruciating pain, especially with his eardrums ripping apart and his vision exploding in a burst of white.

Now, with Caroline safe and in his arms, he finally relaxes, letting go of a breath that had been firmly lodged deep in his lungs for over a month. Despite the awfulness of everything, it's as though all the sharp edges of his soul have been temporarily soothed. It won't last long, he knows; the moment they leave this cabin, the outside world will be ready to charge at them again. And again, and again, until their enemies have been all taken down, one by one. The war isn't over. But for just the briefest of moments, he allows himself to pretend that it is. All that matters in the world to him is right here, in his arms.

Caroline cries until her tears are reduced to hitching breaths, and eventually she stops quivering. Klaus pulls gently away, slackening the embrace just to look at her. Her eyes are red and her face is devastated by grief. It crushes him to see her like this; makes him want to tear the ones responsible for causing her such heartache, limb by limb - with his teeth.

He puts a finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. She's desolate, yes, but it surprises him to see such relief in her eyes, such tenderness.

"Are you really ok?" she chokes out.

He offers her the most sincere smile he can. "Never better."

"Do you even know what happens if you get blown up?"

"I suppose I never got to find out."

Their moment is interrupted by the cabin owner’s inconveniently timed arrival. "Oh. I'm sorry," Jackson says, a little flustered. "I didn't mean to -"

"It's ok," Caroline says, stepping away from Klaus, much to his chagrin. She wipes away her tears with her fingers, and Klaus is astonished - and a little marveled - to see how quickly she pulls herself together, a competent armor snapping into place as she assumes a near professional posture. "How's everything?"

"We didn't find any more explosives. Seems like that was the last of it."

"Anyone else got hurt on the second blast?"

"No." Jackson fixes his eyes on Klaus then, a hard expression on his face, but a grateful look in his eyes. "What you did out there - alerting everyone and then protecting Jimmy... You saved a lot of people. Thank you."

The earnestness in his voice leaves Klaus a little thrown. He supposes he's not used to hearing people genuinely thanking him for anything - perhaps because he's not used to doing selfless deeds that warrant that kind of gratefulness. He doesn't know what to say; instead, he just nods.

"Anyway," Jackson continues. "I'll give you guys some privacy."

"Jackson," Caroline stops him before he turns around to leave. "He's gonna need to borrow one of your shirts."

"Absolutely not," Klaus objects.

Jackson smiles shortly, giving Caroline a pointed look and shutting the door behind him.

Caroline turns to him with a questioning frown.

"I'm not going to dress like a swamp boor."

"Really? You're gonna be a snob _now_?" She shakes her head, shuffling over Jackson's dresser and going through the drawers after a shirt.

"I have standards. These people wear flannel."

"Standards and no clothes."

She picks a plaid button shirt - what a surprise - in black and blue patterns. Klaus rolls his eyes, but doesn't resist when she helps him put it on. While he does up the buttons, she wets the cloth again and cleans some of the soot and dry blood still left on his face and neck. Then she smooths the shirt across his shoulders, the faintest hint of a smile that does not meet her saddened eyes tipping up the corners of her lips.

"You look handsome in official werewolf attire," she says.

"I didn't know you had a thing for werewolf attire."

"I don't," she says. _Only for you,_ her eyes add.

He smiles, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, his hand cupping the side of her face.

So strong, his Caroline... A lesser person would've crumbled so spectacularly by now, but she relents, more resolute and courageous than ever. He's known she's made of tougher material than anyone ever gave her credit for for a long time, but even he feels like he's terribly underestimated her. Granted, her hand has been forced by less than favorable circumstances, but she's made it through. He watched her today, how people looked up to her with respect and admiration, how considerate she was, how careful. They're not even her people, and werewolves are a notably suspicious and proud group, but she has somehow won them over. They trust her, are willing to follow her lead. And all through chaos and grief, Caroline kept herself poised, perfectly in control, always focused on what had to be done rather than on her own feelings, eating away at her. It was only when it was just them alone, to his eyes only - and not before she'd taken care of him as well - that she broke down, picking herself back up right after. And Klaus has no doubt that she's ready to go back outside and start it all over again.

She's a natural born leader. Has always been. At the helm of the ship and in the eye of the hurricane is always where you'll find her. Never cowering, never running. And for once, Klaus is not jealous or worried that she might want to ditch him for the werewolves. He might feel like that in a bit, it's almost inevitable; right now, however, he's just proud. So extremely proud of his little witch, proving to be even more extraordinary than he thought despite her young age. Caroline Forbes never ceases to amaze him. No wonder both he and Elijah have been so desperately captivated; she's one in a million.

"I need to check in with Elijah," he speaks after a moment. "See what he's uncovered, tell him about the other bombs."

Caroline sighs, her shoulders sagging with resignation. "Ok."

"I would feel much better if -"

"I'm not leaving, Klaus," she says, mildly, her voice shaking a little, but with force behind it, and in a manner that does not invite debate. She holds his gaze steadily, her blue eyes wide and bright. "They need me here."

Klaus knew that would be her answer even before he'd finished his question, but he had to try. "Do promise, then, that if you see, hear or sense danger, you will run _from_ it, not to it."

She puts three fingers up in a promise gesture. "I swear."

"And stay close to Jackson. He'll jump in front of a bomb for you, that one."

Her gaze slides away from his face. "I'm not sure that's a very reassuring thought at the moment."

"Caroline,” he croons, cupping her face with both his hands. “Please, stay safe. Please."

She grins softly at him, covering one of his hands with her own. "I’ll be ok. You stay safe, too. Try not to get yourself blown up, ok? Let's not find out what happens if you lose body parts."

Klaus' lips curve into a lopsided grin. "I'll do my best." He places a chaste kiss on her forehead, breathing her in one last time before stepping away.

Right before he walks out, Caroline calls him again. He stops, turns back to her. "Thank you," she says, her voice rich with affection and gratitude.

Klaus smiles and then blurs away.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

The way everything unfolded in the Bayou, it seems too obvious that it was vampire business. Which is precisely why Elijah had a distinct suspicion that it wasn’t. And he was right.

A stranger on a motorcycle blowing himself up with a tank filled with wolfsbane screams compulsion. It would've been only too easy to trace it back to the vampires. If they wanted to cause an impact, they would've done it with their own hands, sending their message with blood, like they did on the Fête de Benediction. Moreover, whatever differences Elijah may have with Marcellus, and however little his esteem for the man might be at the moment, he simply cannot believe that he would blow up bombs in the middle of the Bayou, knowing the damage he could've caused to innocent people - including a certain pregnant witch. Chances he would’ve hit anybody of interest were slim. Marcel is a vermin, but ultimately one with morals; he wouldn't put pregnant women and children in harm's way. There isn’t much Elijah can believe coming from that man, but he does believe that.

He had to confirm it, of course, use a bit of raw strength to enforce that his patience is finished, so Marcel will do well not to test it further. A line was crossed today and peaceful resolutions are no longer on the table. From now on, threats will only be answered with force and any attempts against his or his family's lives will be met with the exact brutality it warrants. Given Marcel’s response, Elijah is sufficiently convinced that the order for the attack in the Bayou did not come from his rather lavish living quarters in Algiers. If it was vampire doing, it was a rogue one, with their own agenda.

He gave Niklaus a full report on his findings when his brother called to inform him of the secondary explosions - the ones that nearly tore him to shreds, apparently. If the attacks were meant to taunt the Mikaelsons, then its purpose have most definitely been accomplished.

Elijah was on his way to the Lycée to interrogate the witches next, but Klaus wanted to do it himself. He could tell by the distinct thrum in his brother's voice that Genevieve would find herself in quite an unpleasant predicament. Elijah hardly thinks she would ever straight-out claim responsibility over the attacks, and Niklaus has always been more skilled in the arts of painfully extracting truths from uncooperative subjects anyway, so perhaps it was best that his brother conducted the interrogations himself. Klaus was out for blood, and for once Elijah did not tell him to restrain his most savage instincts. They hurt Caroline, killed her friend, nearly blew his brother apart... A private session with Niklaus' unleashed rage is the least whoever did this deserves.

As soon as that was resolved, Elijah was prepared to conduct another conversation with his brother reinforcing the importance of bringing Caroline back home, now more than ever. It surely wouldn't be hard to convince Niklaus to swallow his pride, given the circumstances; Caroline, on the other hand... Knowing her, she'd want to stick around to make sure everything and everyone would be fine and well cared for. Klaus said she refused to leave when he did, wanted to stay and help whichever way she could. She had a rough day, to say the least, and Niklaus, in a rare bout of selflessness and maturity, decided not to insist, afraid of starting a fight and making things even worse for her. But the matter would have to be discussed anyway, sooner rather than later.

Imagine his surprise, then, upon returning to the compound to find Caroline in her old room, sitting on her bed, absorbed in some distant thought.

Elijah halts, instinctively scrutinizing her for signs of injuries, wondering what else could've happened in the Bayou for her to come home. His mind immediately conjures up the worst scenarios - that she's been attacked again, that more bombs went off, that she's had another episode like the one that made her leave the compound over a month ago.

Physically, she looks ok. Fresh out of a shower, with her hair tied up in a messy ponytail, comfortable in an oversized sweater. But the expression on her face is wholly poignant. She looks faraway, haunted, as though seeing something he cannot. Not for the first time, Elijah finds himself wondering whether staying in New Orleans was the right call for them, after all. Perhaps they should've just given up on this pointless war as soon as the link to Sophie Deveraux was broken and gone somewhere far, where their problems couldn’t have followed and Caroline could've had the peaceful, uneventful pregnancy she deserved. Hindsight truly is the mother of all tortures.

Still, just the mere sight of her back at their home, in her room, alive, breathing, _safe_ , is enough to quiet some of the riot that’s been slamming through Elijah’s head all day. He breathes out in relief, a tight knot of worry finally coming undone in his chest.

He knocks softly on the door, withdrawing her from her thoughts.

"Hi," she greets, blinking at him, a taut smile on her face that does not meet the grief in her overbright eyes.

"Didn't expect to see you here," he says. "Niklaus said you'd be staying in the Bayou."

"Yeah, well. I stayed while I was needed. They were preparing for Eve's funeral." She stops, swallows, then ploughs on. "It's, uhm... Very traditional and personal for the pack, so... I figured it wasn't appropriate for me to stay. I said my goodbyes and left."

“I hardly think they would’ve minded.”

She waits a beat before shaking her head. “It didn’t feel right.”

"I'm so sorry, Caroline. My relationship with the wolves wasn't the warmest, but Eve always stroke me as a remarkable person."

"She was." Caroline’s eyes rim with tears before she blinks them away. "Anyway. Did you find anything?"

"Only that it wasn't the vampires."

Her brows snap together. "Are you sure?"

"You can never be 100% sure of anything in this city, but I wouldn't put my money on it. If it was the vampires, it wasn't Marcel."

She hums thoughtfully. "It has to have been the witches, then. And if it was them..." She grinds her teeth, a fire in her eyes. "It really was aimed at me."

It was the first thing that occurred to Elijah, in fact. The attack was meant to scare Klaus more than it was meant to scare the wolves. They targeted the Crescents to show his brother that his dealings under the table, trying to undermine the other factions by empowering the werewolves, would bear consequences - and that they'd start by getting to what would hurt him most. The mother of his child was far more vulnerable in the Bayou than any of them would’ve believed, and if the werewolves were made stronger, their adversaries would fight even dirtier. It’s exactly what Elijah warned him about.

But Caroline doesn't need to hear any of that right now. Either way, it's not her fault. She already lost a friend today, there’s no reason why she should be made to feel guilty over it. Elijah can agree with his brother on at least one thing: the drums of war were rolling long before they arrived. If anything, it's what brought them here to begin with.

"I wish I could offer you something more substantial, but... At this point, we can't discard anything. Niklaus is investigating the witches as we speak. We might know more when he comes back."

She shakes her head, sadness and guilt radiating off her like steam. "It's my fault those people got hurt,” she speaks darkly. “Wherever I go, people die. I shouldn't have taken this to them."

"Don't blame yourself, Caroline. You did no such thing."

"They were fine before me."

"Fine? Half of their pack was stuck in wolf form while the other half withered away in squalor. You gave them hope, you helped them figure out how to break the curse. They know they're being targeted as a form of retaliation for daring to have a voice, and you're the one who helped them find theirs. It's why they truly care about you."

"And what good did that bring them?" she counters flatly. "I was thinking... I would like to move back in", she starts tentatively. "If you'll still have me."

"You don't have to ask. This is your home, too."

"But I don't want bodyguards following me around like a shadow, telling me what to do."

Elijah grins. "I'm sure Niklaus can be persuaded."

She pauses, looking rattled and unsure. "Is he still seeing her?"

"No, he's not. Genevieve hasn't been here since before the festival, and I'm sure you noticed they had quite a spectacular fall out."

"Yeah, I heard," she mutters drily. "She was trying to steal from him."

"Not to condone my brother's actions, because I've been very outspoken in my displeasure with his... _indiscretions_. But rest assured, Caroline, there were no feelings there. He was in a worse place than usual, thinking less than he normally does, and saw an opportunity. He was using her. It was purely business. I know what Niklaus looks like when he's truly involved and trust me... That was not it. She never meant a thing to him. No more than a tool."

She chews on her lower lip, regarding Elijah with a studious crease between her eyebrows. "Do you think… Does he really want me here?"

And this question, right here, is what makes Elijah want to plow his brother's head into a wall. There's something fundamentally wrong with Klaus if Caroline would still doubt that at this point. The entire world and their mother has sorted what those two feel for one another ages ago, but they continue to toe around the line between love and hate as though that's even an option anymore. Like it isn't obvious on which side they both are.

Then Elijah remembers something.

"Come with me," he says. "I have something to show you."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

There's a strange sparkle of excitement in Elijah's eyes as he beckons Caroline to follow him, and her brow crinkles with curiosity. They don't go very far, though; in fact, they don't even leave the room.

There's a door on the other side of her bedroom which Caroline doesn't even remember is there most of the time. It leads to a sort of antechamber connecting her room to Klaus' studio, and for the whole time Caroline lived at the compound, it was empty. Klaus never used it either, not even to spy on her - that she knows of, anyway. Every time she checked, the door was locked.

Elijah pushes the door open now and steps aside, a small smile plastered on his face. "Go on," he says, bobbing his head towards it. "Take a look."

Caroline gets what the sparkle was about when she finally peeks inside.

She cannot believe her eyes.

Caroline didn't think anything could break through the veil of anguish and sorrow that settled around her today, but her heart swells, trips over a beat as she gingerly steps into the room, an unexpected warmth unfurling inside of her.

The walls have been painted, long silky drapes adorn the single window and a soft beige rug now covers most of the floor. There’s a gorgeous rocking chair right under the window, so much like the one her grandmother used to have on her porch when Caroline was a kid. But what really knocks the wind off Caroline's lungs is the crib in the middle of the room. Huge and beautiful, all in dark wood, with an intricately carved headboard and a cute brown teddy bear inside. The most gorgeous mobile she's ever seen hangs above it, tiny crystals dancing and glinting under the soft light.

"Niklaus did everything by himself," Elijah says after giving her a few moments to process. "I wasn't even aware that he'd put a baby room together until a few days ago. Found it by accident."

She walks over to the crib, touching the soft material of the pillows inside, the bear. And then she reaches up to play with the mobile. Everything she had been postponing out of fear and indecision, of not knowing what to do, or where to go, or even if she'd make it this far. Everything she could've possibly wanted. Right here.

"I think it's safe to say he wished for your return. Your daughter should be raised by her parents, in our family's home, Caroline," Elijah says, smiling softly. "Welcome back."

He leaves her to her thoughts, correctly assuming she'll take her time here. Caroline scrutinizes every single detail, goes through all the drawers on the dresser, all the toys on the shelves, the paintings on the walls. She's enraptured by the largest one, of New Orleans' skyline at night with a full moon shining bright over the Mississippi. She doesn’t have to ask to know Klaus painted it himself.

Caroline feels as though a tiny, fragile flame has been lit up in her chest, filling her with hopefulness despite the horrors of the day, reminding her that not all is lost. Not yet. It’s hard to remember sometimes there’s a reason behind all this, why she’s in the middle of this crazy, unfair war. That reason has been growing inside of her for just over eight months.

She can't help but smile, trying to imagine Klaus putting the room together on his own, choosing the furniture and the toys, the little dresses and shoes lined up inside the dresser. Must've driven him crazy. She can just about picture him going into a store and asking for one of everything. _And make it fast, will you, sweetheart, I don’t have all day._ She huffs out a ghost of a laugh. It's an endearing thought, and it makes her think of the conversation she had with Eve just this morning. As she moaned about her fear of being alone with an infant in this world, the werewolf just smiled in that knowing, gentle way of hers. _I somehow doubt that._

It was just this morning, but it already feels like a million years ago.

Caroline realizes now that Eve could see right through her and Klaus' muddy relationship, as though she knew she'd end up right here, back at the compound, even before the idea ever occurred to her. To think that her friend won't be there to deliver the baby, to hold Caroline's hand through mind-splitting pain and tell her how to breathe as though it was the simplest thing to do while she tries to push a tiny person out of her... Eve will never see her inexplicable faith in Klaus pay off in the form of this room.

She feels the threat of tears burning behind her eyes again, her pulse straining as she tries to keep up with her emotions.

Music playing outside catches her attention, and she moves to the window. A marching band is passing by the street. So different from the quietness of the Bayou. She has missed the French Quarter. Even with war raging on and blood running through the streets, this city always seems to choose to celebrate life, even in death.

Especially in a day like today, Caroline can’t help but admire that kind of resilience.

 

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Klaus leans quietly against the doorframe, taking a second to just appreciate the miracle of this moment.

When he started putting the room together, he didn't really know whether Caroline would ever want to come back, was painfully aware that the nursery could become a reminder of what he'd lost, what he'd ruined. A museum of his own failures. But, for once, Klaus decided to remain hopeful. And if Caroline ever did entertain the thought, he wanted her to feel at home, as at ease as she did in the Bayou, with the werewolves; to know that she was wanted. Her and the baby both. That this is, and would always be, their home.

He had no idea what kind of thing he was supposed to buy for a baby, so he enlisted Camille's assistance. He's hardly her favorite person, but all he had to do was say it was for Caroline and the baby and her disposition was instantly softened. She compiled a list, which he then took to a store. The hardest part was hiding it from Elijah. He was certain his brother would appreciate his effort, maybe even offer to help, but this was something Klaus wanted to do on his own. His daughter isn't even born yet and already he collects terrible failings as a parent, and it's hard to imagine that will stop there, given his history. In a way, the nursery was an apology, a manner to calm his spirit and quiet down the panic that threatens to take over every time he tries to picture himself as a father, making room for the baby in his home as he made room for it in his heart. He’s certain Camille would say it was therapeutic, and for once he wouldn’t immediately disagree. It was a good way to pass the time, brought him more peace than he could’ve expected.

And all the while, he had Caroline at the forefront of his mind.

He imagined her exactly like she is now, standing by the window, holding the baby in her arms, or maybe sitting on the rocking chair he put right on that corner. The light there is perfect.

It seems surreal that she's actually here now, her stomach still beautifully swollen. Klaus stays very still, committing the moment to memory in its tiniest details. He needs to put it down on paper later.

"I see my brother has spoiled the surprise I prepared," he speaks after a long silence.

Caroline whips around, startled before her expression smooths into a thousand-watts smile that lights up her face, despite the obvious pain still darkening her eyes. He hasn’t seen her smile like that at him in… He can’t even remember when the last time was. It tugs at something deep in his chest.

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Soon. When the moment was appropriate. Our encounters lately had been few and fueled by hard feelings. I never got a chance." His eyes flicker away from her, taking in the rest of the room, then back. "Do you like it?"

"Do I like it?" She lets out a soft puff of air disbelief. "I love it. It's... perfect. I don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. It was the least I could do after… Everything."

"I spoke to Elijah," she starts, wringing her hands nervously. "I would like to - I mean if it's not - If you would have me -"

"Yes," he cuts her off. "Please."

"But I have conditions." Klaus arches his eyebrows at her. "Don't go getting all paranoid on me again. No bodyguards, no house arrest. And you have to loop me into - well, everything."

He expected her to say that, and he's ready to accept her demands, however trying they might be. At this point, he hardly thinks there’s anything he would deny her. If she asked him to move out so she could move in, he would. "After today… It’ll be tough, but I’ll do my best."

A shadow crosses the delicate lines of Caroline’s face, the smile dropping off her lips. Klaus immediately regrets mentioning the events in the Bayou.

"Did you find anything with the witches? Elijah mentioned you went to investigate."

"It wasn't them."

Caroline scoffs. "Did Genevieve have anything persuasive to say in her defense?"

Klaus stands up straight, taking a tentative step closer to her. "I don't trust Genevieve, Caroline. I never did.” He speaks urgently, desperate for her to believe him, to understand, his gaze unflinching. “She was a very short-lived mistake that never meant anything to me. It should’ve never happened to begin with, but I’m done with her. I’ve been done with her for a while."

"But you believed her anyway."

"I didn't just take her word on it. The biker man who blew himself up. He owed a debt to the casino. To the humans who own it. And it was mysteriously cleared after the attack."

She frowns. "Why would humans want to harm the werewolves?"

"That's what I intend to find out. But you may rest assured that whoever did it will be brought to justice. I won't let them walk free."

Caroline sighs, her shoulders sagging with weariness as though under a heavy weight, and he can tell she doesn't feel the least bit reassured. They haven't exactly been great at keeping the city under control, and the latest developments only complicate matters further. If it had been the vampires or the witches, it would be easy to understand, therefore easier to fix. But what could Francesca Correa possibly want to achieve by detonating bombs in the Bayou?

Elijah doesn't like her, says she's _impishly ambitious_. The way she took over for Father Kieran was particularly prickly for Klaus. He' personally chose the priest to hold the reigns of the human faction, and he proved himself to be quite reasonable. Then a few days after Francesca cornered Elijah with her demands, the priest fell mysteriously ill, no longer able to fight for his place. There's something going on there, Klaus is certain of it. Far too many conveniently timed events for it to be chalked up as mere coincidence. He just can't see the bigger picture. Historically, humans have always kept to their corner for obvious reasons. What could this woman possibly have that allows her to play such a dangerous game with creatures far older and more powerful than her?

One thing he knows for sure, though. If Caroline had been harmed today, at this hour, New Orleans would no longer stand. He wouldn’t bother asking questions, wouldn’t give anyone the benefit of the doubt. There would be no witch, no vampire and no gangster human left to tell the sad story.

"When I arrived in the Bayou and saw all those injured people, weeping, crying out for help, for a moment..." he trails off, recalling the terrible second he mistook a blonde woman for Caroline. "I thought that my selfishness and my pride had caused your death, scaring you away from here, forcing you to take refuge there. I thought... Because of me, you and our daughter had been killed." His voice is low and grave. Even saying these words makes his heart split. "In a thousand years, I can't recall a time I felt so frightened.

"I've wronged you in so many ways, Caroline. I lost my mind to madness when I thought you and Elijah were... I acted out in frustration, said some unforgivable things, and didn't seek you out as I should have. I knew you believed me to be indifferent when I kept my distance and I did nothing to change that. But I was there every night. Watching you. Making sure you were all right, well cared for... Happy."

She blinks slowly at him, a light frown between her eyebrows. "What?"

"Your friend Eve saw me. She assured me you were well. I believed you were better off without me, that you were in peace, so I fought down my heart's desire and stayed away when all I wanted was to ask for your forgiveness and beg you to come home. Elijah pestered me with it every single day, but I ignored him. The truth is... This place... It felt dead without you here. You were the only good thing in my life, Caroline. The only light. And I did everything wrong by you.” Klaus pauses, throat bobbing, his heartbeats thundering through him as he holds Caroline's bewildered gaze steadily. "I'm sorry it took you losing a friend for you to return home," he starts. No hesitation. No uncertainty. His voice strong and steady. "I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you all this. I'm sorry that I hurt you, that I made you want to leave, that I let you think I didn't care. I'm sorry, Caroline. I'm so sorry."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Caroline is transfixed. She blinks, slowly, paralyzed in a state of shock. Did Klaus just...? Did he really...?

_"I'm sorry, Caroline. I'm so sorry."_

She stares at him, mouth hanging slightly open, watching as dozens of emotions flit across Klaus' face. Emotions she doesn't think she's ever seen there before, not this clearly, worn as plainly as he flaunts his rage and temper. Fear. Sorrow. Shame. Regret.

She can _feel_ his agony.

Caroline had been waiting to hear that for weeks, but dreading it at the same time. As much as she'd wanted to forgive him, she didn't just want empty apologies for the sake of it, just because someone - _Elijah_ \- put him up to it. She wanted Klaus to mean it, to _believe_ his own words, and she feared that, when he finally decided to apologize, she'd be able to see right through it, to the emptiness of his promises and the convenience of his gesture. It would only break her heart all over again.

But not even in her wildest dreams did she think Klaus would ever be so... Open. Remorseful. And sincere. It kind of leaves her a bit winded.

She hardened herself to him, and with good reason; she was mad about their fall-out and his lack of accountability, bitter over Genevieve. But the truth is... She had always been willing to yield, just waiting for him to do the right thing, say the right words, push a little harder. It seems unfair that it is in the wake of tragedy that they're finally finding a way to talk, _really_ talk, but Caroline cannot imagine making it through a day like today without him. Klaus is the one her heart goes to for comfort. In the middle of all this chaos, since her very first day in New Orleans, he's been home to her. Not the plantation, or the compound, or the Bayou; Klaus.

Silence stretches between them as her mind reels, and she doesn't realize she's been quiet for an awkwardly long time until he turns around to leave, probably thinking she’s unmoved. It’s the exact opposite, actually.

"Klaus," she blurts out, and he stops, spins back with expectant eyes.

Caroline chews on her lower lip and, making a decision, walks up to him, her heart pounding insanely against her ribcage. She lifts her hand to his face, the tips of her fingers grazing his chin gingerly before she cups his cheek. The throbbing pain inside her chest quiets down, its rough edges dulled by the warmth humming through her.

His eyes drift close as he relaxes into her touch, and Caroline carefully studies him. His fair lashes, the shape of his cheekbones, the roughness of his stubble under her fingertips, the ridiculous perfection of his jaw line. Klaus is so beautiful. It's easy to forget that sometimes, with how insufferable he can be. He looks tired, though. Every bit as exhausted and beaten as Caroline feels. A kind of weariness that runs deeper than bones and muscles, seems to eat away at her very soul. And yet she is struck by how much at ease she is in this moment, by how she simply unwinds being this close to him. It reminds her of better times. Easier times. When Caroline dared to believe that maybe things were on the up at last, after waking up to find him gazing at her with sheer adoration.

“You were there for me today,” she speaks, just above a whisper. “You were there for everyone. More innocent people would’ve died if it wasn’t for you.”

Klaus opens his eyes, peering at her in that way of his, heat rising in her belly. “You weren’t the only one who was scared,” she continues. “For a moment, I thought… When I didn’t see you… I thought I’d lost you.” Her voice comes out brittle, vibrating with emotion, and she has to fight back the tears pricking behind her eyes as the familiar fear and despair that threatened to take over her rear its head again.

He covers the hand on his face with his own, bringing her back to the moment, keeping her grounded with a piercing stare. “I’m a hard one to kill.”

Caroline smiles shortly. “You said you didn’t do what you wanted, didn’t follow your heart’s desire,” she starts. “What is it that you want?”

“I want you,” he replies, not missing a beat. “I’ve always wanted you, Caroline. Only you. I want you and our daughter here, safe, with me.”

Caroline leans in, studying the new intensity in his dark blue eyes, the full lips that populated so many of her dreams back in Mystic Falls, before she would even allow herself to admit how much she’d wanted to taste them. The memory of their kisses sparks between them like a fire ignited out of thin air. “Ok,” she says, a tiny grin dancing on the corner of her mouth. “You get a second chance. Don’t screw up.”

She comes even closer, and when Klaus finally cuts the last inches between them, Caroline feels a _click_ , something fundamental inside of her sliding into place.

He grabs the back of her neck, his fingers sliding through her hair. It's wanton need and months of ill-resolved feelings, all mashed into one. Klaus kisses her like he's got a single minute to live, with a ravaging despair. Some things, it seems, don't change; Caroline feels exactly as she did after their first kiss. As soon as he touches her, or kisses her, the smell of him, the warmth, it all makes her knees grow weak and her body simply surrenders.

They tumble back together, and he presses her slowly and deliberately against the wall behind her, the palms of his hands smoothing up and down her back, her hips. Caroline pulls him as close as it is humanly possible with the mass of baby between them. The nervousness morphs into a thrill of anticipation, and for once it's not a bad thing, not an agitation that makes her feel sick. All the tension that had settled between her shoulder blades melts into a shiver that makes the fine hair on the back of her neck stand to attention. She lets out a breath that is half a moan against his mouth, ready to lose herself in his arms. But then Klaus breaks the kiss, his eyes closed, pressing their foreheads together.

"You'll be the end of me, Caroline Forbes," he breathes out, his voice raspy and thick with sentiment. She smiles, biting on his lower lip, sucking on it and then kissing him again.

Klaus cups her face, pulling away just enough to look at her. His eyes are alight with passion, but somehow still soft, so tender that it sends goosebumps trickling down her neck. Almost nine months, on that fateful sunny morning, she woke up to this same look in his eyes and felt that she'd found something. Something precious and inexplicable that she didn't even know she'd been looking for, but that made her feel complete somehow. She remembers that moment to a fault, the exact second she realized she was at a total loss for Klaus Mikaelson. Her heart skipped a fundamental beat, and when it picked up rhythm again, it was beating just that tiny bit different than before. _Oh, goddamnit,_ was her first thought. She knew then that, against all rhyme or reason, she was falling in love with him. It felt huge, life-changing, breathtaking, and she had no clue just _how_ huge it was then; her entire future was being shaped in that morning. Almost nine months and an impossible number of ordeals later and she still feels the same flutter in her chest, the same buzzing under her skin. Everything has changed, the whole world turned upside down, and yet this one thing perseveres - a little worn, a little tested, but greater than before, stronger.

Love has never come easily to Caroline, and she's come to understand that it’s part of the job, so to speak, of where she was born, the people she befriended - witches, vampires, werewolves, doppelgangers... In the middle of all that, there was no way she could ever hope to have a normal life. Nine to five job, marriage, children... That kind of stuff happens to other people. Witches will always have the apocalypse knocking on their door, no matter how hard they try to hide from it. Supernatural creatures are magnets for crap - as Damon Salvatore made evident. Being with Klaus, though... It's a whole new, unexplored level of complicated. You have to fight him in order to love him; he does not sell it cheaply, that’s for sure. But there's not a lot in this world that compares to it, to looking into those millennium-old eyes and knowing that she is all he sees. To feeling his heart racing underneath her palm and knowing that it's for her.

It feels exactly like coming home. Her entire life has been shaken to its core, but in that kiss, in Klaus' arms, it all snaps back into place.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Klaus didn't _mean_ to kiss her.

More accurately, he didn't mean to kiss her _now_ , when she's so obviously devastated by grief. He always wants to kiss Caroline, every second of every day for a good many years now, but he doesn't want to feel as though he's taking advantage of a rare moment of weakness on her part. Caroline has been leaning onto him for strength today, and he's glad just being here for her, for whatever she needs. If he can make her feel better, make her forget the horrors she's lived through today at the Crescents' camp - if he can offer her just a mere second of solace, he'll do it.

It was just stronger than him, having her so close, so pliant, with so much affection burning through the cobalt of her eyes. One second her face was inches away from his, the next, his lips were on hers, devouring, desperate, the consummation of months and months of neglected feelings. Then she was kissing him back, with just as much eagerness, and before he knows it, they are a tangle of limbs, pressed together as though trying to blend into one.

Klaus is raw with the need to touch her, to feel her. Her sinful moan against his mouth goes straight to his groin. He just wants to take her to bed and debauch her again, make her shake with want. Every cell in his body aches for her, filled with a visceral desperate _hunger_.

He breaks away for air abruptly, pressing his eyes shut against the desire unraveling inside of him. "You'll be the end of me, Caroline Forbes," he whispers, fully knowing that if he were to die right now, it would be with a smile on his face. The light in her eyes just then glows brighter than he's seen in an excruciatingly long time, like he didn’t think he’d see again, not directed at him. He sees the sun in that smile, breaking through the storm clouds that have shrouded his entire being for weeks.

Caroline is this blazing, merciless ball of chaos that came into his life disrupting everything with its crunching energy, tearing apart everything Klaus thought he knew or wanted. The utter foreignness of it repulsed him as much as it attracted him, and for the longest time he didn't know how to call it. An overwhelming feeling that takes over his entire being, holding the pendulum of his life and changing its very course. It made him desperate to make her smile, to hear her laugh, do just about anything to see that wondrous sparkle in her eyes. It drove him insane. But now, as he looks into those beautiful blue eyes, he thinks he finally understands it.

Happiness.

It's rapturous, makes no sense and, at times, is akin to torture. It’s addictive, like the worst kind of drug, and he cannot imagine himself without it. Without her.

But now is not the time.

He presses his lips against hers once more, meekly, and then he flashes away from the room. He wanted to pillage every last breath from her mouth and claim it for himself, but he couldn't let it go any further. Not tonight. Not after what she's been through.

Caroline is vulnerable, made brittle by grief. He knows she wanted him, too, could hear her heart pounding, feel the need in her touch, the earnestness of her gaze. And that is enough to soothe his cravings. To know that she is back of her own free will, that she wants him still, is enough. For now, anyway. If he stays too close, he won't be able to stop himself, so he leaves. If he knows Caroline at all, she'll want to spend some time in that room, getting herself acquainted with every detail, all the while compiling a mental list of all the things still missing.

As much as he's waited for this, fantasizing about this moment, about having her in his arms again, he won't be losing his mind over it. Not when he practically has a skip in his step from so much joy. Caroline needs rest, and it's probably for the best that she sleeps on everything that's happened, reassessing her own feelings about it all once the pain and the terror aren't fogging her thoughts. He's waited almost nine months. A few more days won't hurt.

He comes down from cloud nine as soon as he returns to his room, though. Elijah is there, looking rather forlorn, watching the street from his window with a glass of bourbon in his hand. A perfect imitation of what Klaus looked like on most days for the past month or so. How the tables have turned... And all it took was one kiss.

"I trust," Elijah starts, sipping from his drink, half of his face bathed in shadow. "And hope that you won't take Caroline's return for granted and will put an honest effort into doing right by her this time around."

Klaus clasps his hands behind his back. "Is this your way of reminding me of your threat? That you'll be waiting for me to fail again so _you can take what you want_?"

"Despite what you might think, Niklaus, I want you to be happy.”

"More than you want to be happy yourself?"

His brother lifts his face, finally meeting his gaze, a tiny smile ticking up the corner of his lips. "I've come to realize over the years that one thing hinges inherently on the other."

Klaus watches him carefully, thinking of all the ways this throwaway line could be weighted. Goodhearted approval, camaraderie, accusation, resentment. Elijah has this way of leaving the emphasis empty sometimes.

"Well," he speaks after a moment, changing course. Caroline aside, the two of them have many more problems to discuss. "I won't be completely happy until we find the ones behind the attacks on the Bayou." Klaus takes a seat behind his desk. "First Marcel's massacre. Now bombs. Are you ready to give up this doomed treaty?"

"Very occasionally, Niklaus, you are, indeed, right. This isn't something I speak lightly. You being right this time means a number of terrible things I wanted very hard to overlook in favor of staying hopeful. I was wrong. The people of New Orleans never meant to take their pledge seriously."

"I take no joy in being right, brother. Not this time."

"Somehow, I doubt that." Elijah pauses, walking over to him. "This alliance with the wolves. If it is to succeed, I believe you'll want this." Elijah puts down their mother's grimoire in front of him, tapping his finger twice on top of it.

Klaus blinks at him, suspicious. And then he realizes - this demeanor, his sagged shoulders, the lack of fight... Elijah is defeated. Perhaps even feeling guilty for what took place today in the Bayou. It feels wrong to see his big brother, always so haughty, so imposing, like this. Klaus feels almost sorry for the part he’s played in unearthing the truth about the peace treaty. But he _was_ right, after all.

"Seems I have Caroline to thank for your change of heart," he says, opening the book to inspect that the spell that interests him the most at the moment hasn’t been removed.

Elijah walks by him, and Klaus can hear him filling his glass again. "The rifts in this city run far deeper than I even imagined. These tribes, these factions... They're families, and families will choose to fight for their own, always." Elijah returns with two glasses, offering one to Klaus as he leans back against the desk, looking down at his brother with a sharp, cold glint in his eyes. "Mayhem has descended upon our home. And if I'm to choose a side..." He raises his glass in a toast. "To our victory, brother."

A smile breaks onto Klaus' face and, after a moment, he raises his glass as well, knocking back his drink.

It seems he didn't just get Caroline back tonight. He also got his brother.

Klaus hasn't felt this invincible in a very long time.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL. Here we are, then. lol
> 
> So you can see now what those FEARS I mentioned above were about. I don't think anything I've ever written in my life has gone through as many rereads and rewrites as this chapter. lol It's a MAJOR point in the story, the culmination of a LOT of things and I really, really wanted this to work. I hope you guys enjoyed it!
> 
> Those of you who have watched The Originals probably noticed that I twisted this episode quite a bit. There are lots of differences in comparison to the show, but plot-wise the end result is still the same. Aside from the obvious (having to switch Elijah for Klaus), there are other reasons why I felt things made more sense like this. I'm not gonna go into details because I'm not sure anybody wants to hear me rambling here. lol But I'd love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> Also, totally silly, but the opening scene on this chapter is one my favorites from the entire story. Like maybe top three. I know, it makes no sense. Nothing happens, it's just an incredibly passive-aggressive conversation,. Elijah. ❤
> 
> I hope you guys liked this chapter and if you did, if you don't mind, I would really love to hear your thoughts. :) Your comments and continued support really means the world to me. Thanks for reading!


	19. S01E19 A Closer Walk With Thee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, happy 2020 to you all! So **The Wolf** actually won a KC Award! Best Canon-ish Multi-Chapter. Thank you very much to everyone who took their precious time to vote for this story. :) You guys rock and I am so, so happy!
> 
> This chapter had [**coveredinthecolors**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/pseuds/coveredinthecolors)'s amazing beta work, as well as her usual rants about Elijah, all of which I missed very much. 
> 
> We're not far from the end now! Just two more chapters, you guys! I seriously cannot believe I made it this far. As always, thank you very much to all of you who have been reading and reviewing this. You've really made me want to push myself further with this fic. Your comments are much appreciated! Do not hesitate to drop me a note and tell me how you feel. :) Not gonna lie, it totally makes me excited about updating faster.
> 
> There are some important notes at the bottom. Please, don't skip those once you're done with this chapter. Hope you enjoy it! :)

* * *

Caroline will never understand the concept behind throwing a party when someone dies.

If it happens to her, she'll be _royally_ pissed off, and, as a witch, she has actual ways of coming back to exact revenge, so they better not try.

It just feels wrong to have music and dancing and drinking when you lose someone you love. Especially someone as young as Father Kieran. He was fine and then, all of sudden, fell hopelessly ill. In a matter of days, he was dead. Officially, according to his obituary, he had a massive stroke, but it all happened very conveniently after that woman, Francesca Correa, approached Elijah about taking Kieran's seat on their war council as the head of the human faction. People should be _pissed off_ and _murderous_ and raging on God for taking one of his own so soon, not celebrating.

That is certainly how Caroline feels. She wasn’t even close to Kieran, but nothing about this story sits right with her.

She hasn't stopped investigating Francesca since the Bayou bombs. She's the gangster whose family owns the Palace Royale Casino, the place where the bomber guy left a gigantic gambling debt that magically disappeared after he killed himself, taking Eve along with him. Anyone who knows anything about how these places operate knows debts, especially a sum like the one the guy owed, don't just go away, not even after death. They have assurances and ways to collect. _Violent_ ways. Gangsters don’t get stinking rich by pardoning debtors.

When you add Father Kieran's sudden passing to that... Suspicious doesn't even begin to cover it. Francesca Correa is either incredibly lucky, or incredibly guilty.

To say Caroline already doesn't like the woman is an euphemism, and they haven’t even officially met yet.

She visited Father Kieran at the hospital a couple of times to offer Cami some support. Her friend was understandably devastated. Kieran was her last living relative, took her and her twin brother in after their parents passed away. After high school, her brother, Sean, stayed in New Orleans, determined to follow his uncle's footsteps and become a priest, while Cami moved to Florida to continue her studies. Then her brother died in a freaky accident, and that was when she decided to move back home, to be closer to the only family she still had left.

"I'm all alone now," Cami said in a brittle voice and with tears in her eyes as she sat by her uncle’s bed. Kieran had been connected to tubes and machines for days, and the doctors said there were no signs of improvement.

Caroline gave her a tight hug. "No, you're not. You'll never be alone."

Because Cami’s not a fan of Klaus, Caroline thought it was best if they didn't go together, but she asked him to stop by and use his blood. He warned her that there are things not even vampire blood can heal — natural diseases that take such intricate and profound roots into a person's system that not even magic can undo the damage. It works like the worst kind of hexes. Things such as cancer, Alzheimer's, Parkinson's... And massive strokes. So _unlucky_ that the disease to strike a perfectly healthy Kieran was exactly one of those very rare, very few things that vampire blood can't fix... Klaus tried it, anyway. And as he predicted, it didn't work. Kieran remained exactly as he was, totally unresponsive and hanging by a thread.

Caroline knew, as Klaus did, that it was only a matter of time.

Last night, she finally got the dreaded message from Cami informing of her uncle's passing. In respect to his wishes, they'd be giving him a half-Irish, half jazz funeral. There would be a mass this morning at St. Anne's church, followed by a celebration of Kieran's life to be held at Rousseau's, where everyone would proceed to get shit-faced drunk. Tomorrow they'll have a procession through the streets of the French Quarter, starting at St. Anne's, all the way to Lafayette cemetery, accompanied by a brass band, as is the city’s custom.

Caroline texted her friend back to say how sorry she was and ask if she needed anything. She didn’t care that it was way past midnight, she'd be there in a minute. Cami politely declined. "It's all bureaucracy right now and I think I need a minute. But thank you. See you tomorrow?"

Caroline felt sick, her heart heavy with grief. She didn't know Kieran all that well, only ran into him a few times, but he seemed like a nice man, genuinely concerned with his community's well-being, interested in helping whichever way he could, not differentiating between factions. He helped Marcel rescuing Davina from the Harvest ritual, he took in the werewolves during the storm, he helped Klaus find Agnes after she used that cursed needle to try and kill the baby. Kieran was a man who took his vows and his job seriously. First and foremost, he wanted to do good.

Like Eve.

Caroline hasn’t even recovered from burying one friend and already she’ll be attending another funeral. Good people are dropping like flies around New Orleans. This city has a way of being especially cruel to those who dare to defy its crooked ways and remain honest and pure in the face of darkness.

She tried to go back to sleep, even made herself a chamomile tea, but she was too restless, too indignant. So she put on a robe and padded barefoot across the hall, to Klaus' room. He's taken to sleeping with his door open, said it was so he could hear if anyone tried to break in. She doubts that’s really why; he could hear a needle dropping on the other side of the courtyard with his sharp hybrid ears, and he probably hasn’t been sleeping at all. Ever since the bombs, nights have been long and strenuous for everyone. Knowing that, Caroline tried to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb him in case he'd managed to get some well-deserved shut-eye.

The room was dark, but she could see he was in bed, under his sheets, lying on his stomach, apparently asleep. She watched him for a moment and was about to go back to her room when she heard his voice. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry," she said, stopping by the threshold. "Did I wake you?"

Klaus sat up in bed, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. "I wasn't sleeping," he said, but his hoarse voice told a different story.

She was quiet for a moment, considering. "Kieran's dead."

His face remained impassive, but Caroline could see the subtle change in his eyes, the way he cast them down, a shadow crossing his face. Klaus doesn't like many people, but he appreciated the priest. He once described him as _trustworthy_. That's not something he speaks lightly. There are times when he won’t trust his own brother.

"Is Camille all right?" he asked after a moment.

"No," she replied simply.

"Do you want to go to her?" he correctly anticipated the first thing to cross Caroline's mind. But his tone suggested he'd be willing to accompany her, rather than tell her not to go, which was probably a first.

"She doesn't want me to," she replied. "I asked." There was another moment's pause, both of them lost in thoughts. "Anyway. I just thought you'd like to know."

"Caroline," Klaus called softly when she made to leave. "Are you all right?"

She sighed. "I don't know. I didn't really know him. I just think it's unfair that good people keep getting caught up in this city's web of disaster and dying stupid deaths. He was a good guy."

"He was."

"Like Eve."

"Yes."

"I guess I'm angry."

"Do you want to stay here?"

Caroline blinked at him, a little surprised by his offer, but she recovered fast. Without saying anything, she walked over to the bed, took off her robe and climbed in next to him, slipping under the covers and lying on her side. For a moment, Caroline gave herself a respite from all the anger boiling on the inside by just watching him as he lay on his back, absently staring at the ceiling. His handsome profile, the light frown between his eyebrows, the shape of his nose, the strain on the corner of his lips. A few weeks ago, she couldn't imagine ever being this close to Klaus again, this comfortable around him. Now there she was, crawling into his bed in the middle of the night as though that was the most natural thing in the world. And it felt so.

Just like after the bombs, she found a measure of solace in being close to him, knowing that he was still there. The one spot of stillness in a world made of uncertainty. Everyone hurts, bleeds and dies, but Klaus never will. He's indestructible.

"The funeral's tomorrow," she whispered. "At the church. Then there's a party or something at Rousseau's."

Klaus smiled wanly. "An Irish funeral for Father O'Connell."

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For Kieran. I know you liked him.”

Klaus’ expression hardened, the line of his lips became sharper, but he didn’t say anything. Caroline reached out for his hand, and he held hers back, firmly. She fell asleep with his thumb making soothing circles on her skin.

When she woke up this morning, he was gone.

Not just from the bed, but from the house altogether. Nobody saw him leave, not even Elijah.

"Did you have a fight last night?" he asked casually during breakfast.

"No. It was fine. I just... Told him about Kieran."

"He probably wanted to pay his respects while the church is still empty," Elijah offered. "Niklaus isn't fond of public shows of affection of any kind."

It made sense. Caroline wouldn't be mad at him about it, of course. Klaus is entitled to his own grief and if Father Kieran was more of a friend to him than any of them realized, then he's allowed to mourn in peace, whichever way he wants.

She got ready and went to church with Elijah for the service. It was packed by the time they arrived, and about to start, so Caroline didn't even get a chance to speak to Cami. Her eulogy was lovely and very touching, got half the church sobbing. Caroline could suddenly understand the desperate need to get shit-faced.

As soon as the service was over, everyone was out the door, heading straight to Rousseau's to drown out their heartache in pints of Guinness and tequila shots. Cami disappeared from sight, perhaps the one most in need of some liquid comfort. Klaus never showed. "Did you see him?" Caroline asked Elijah, but he simply shook his head.

While Elijah went to Rousseau's, she returned to the compound, thinking maybe she'd find Klaus there. It wasn’t not like him to disappear like this, and she was frankly starting to get a little concerned he'd slipped right into one of his destructive moods. But he was not home either. With her anxiety piquing, Caroline made herself a generous peanut butter sandwich before heading to Rousseau's to meet Elijah. Since she wouldn’t be able to drink, she might as well satiate her cravings with food.

As the church before, the bar is jammed, lots of familiar faces mingling with others she's never seen before. She recognizes a few vampires and some humans with supernatural connections who'd been at the Feast of the Blessings and at Elijah’s party. Unlike at the church, however, the mood couldn't be more energetic and cheerful. If a random person were to walk in, they'd think the local team just won the Superbowl. It's almost overwhelming, and Caroline is a little taken aback as she walks in. Elijah explained to her what an Irish funeral entailed, but she did not expect _this_. She's not gonna teach a priest how to make his own funeral, but if people are this happy when she dies, they're gonna have to answer to her fury from beyond the veil. _Especially_ if her death is as suspicious and untimely as Kieran's.

As she searches the crowd for Elijah, she catches a scene unfolding at the back of the bar. Francesca Correa speaking to Cami, and not in a friendly manner. The woman has Cami cornered, her posture way too aggressive for someone who should be respectful of another person's grief. Cami has her arms crossed defensively across her chest, the expression on her face making it clear she does not at all appreciate whatever it is the other woman is saying.

Caroline is about to stalk over to them when Francesca turns on her heels and marches out. Before she can go over to check on her friend, Cami disappears through a door on the back, slamming it behind her as she goes.

Something is _definitely_ not right here.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

One day, perhaps, science will be able to explain the fine intricacies of Niklaus' mood swings like it explains the tides or the phases of the moon. Until then, however, he'll remain a sore pain in the ass of any poor soul who dares to share his company for extended periods of time.

Ever since Caroline returned to the compound, he had been at his absolute best behavior. His temper didn't rear its ugly head once. Elijah even allowed himself to imagine, for just the briefest of moments, that his brother had, perhaps, finally learned an invaluable lesson about making concessions in the name of peaceful coexistence. He was listening more, barking less, respecting people's spaces and wishes. He even inquired Elijah once on news of Rebekah. It was the first time he mentioned her name without a coat of contempt since their sister took off from New Orleans. It really did feel like things were looking up; if not in general terms, at least in a more personal note for their family.

And then this morning he apparently woke up ready to start shooting nuclear warheads at everyone once more.

Niklaus eludes any reason.

Yes, he was moderately fond of the priest, but not enough to be in such a foul mood, especially when they'd known for days that it was only a matter of time. Caroline said they didn't have any quarrels and, if Elijah is not imagining things, she spent the night in his bedroom.

Try as he might, Elijah cannot understand why he finds his brother pitifully drunk and sporting a pout at Rousseau's. The place is packed, but no one even dares to come close to him. While everyone celebrates Kieran's life by sharing stories and singing songs in his honor, Niklaus sends strong _keep off the grass_ signs, a lonesome figure with a deep scowl and dark clouds hovering above his head.

Elijah asks for a glass and sits by his side, offering a toast to Kieran. Klaus half-heartedly lifts his own glass off the table and knocks back the rest of his drink before pouring another generous dose from the bottle he’d already swept away from the bar.

"Is there a reason for this or is it just that time of the month again?"

Klaus glares at him, chugging back his drink instead of offering an answer.

"I knew you were fond of Father Kieran, I didn't know you cared that much."

"Seems rather uncivilized to laugh and dance around the body of a loved one," Klaus grumbles.

"Yes. It is far better to practice your process of grief: denial, rage and hoarding coffins in basements," Elijah retorts, punctuating his sentence with a slanted grin.

Just then, Caroline finds them, sliding into the seat right across from Klaus. As soon as she takes in his state, she makes a face, brows slashing together in obvious confusion.

"I will warn you, Caroline. Niklaus is in a spectacularly foul mood today."

"Sod off," he grunts into his glass.

"So I guess this is not a good time to talk about Francesca Correa?"

"What about her?" Elijah asks.

"For starters, I don't like her. I just saw her talking to Cami, and Cami looked _very_ upset."

"Her uncle just died."

"It didn't seem like that was the reason. Francesca was badgering her. Who does that to a person who just lost her only living relative?"

"You'll do well to stay away from that for now," Klaus chimes in.

"Wow," Caroline says flatly. "I just had the weirdest deja-vu. It's almost like we've had this conversation about a million times before and you already know what my answer will be."

Elijah grins, quietly sipping from his glass. "I warned you."

Klaus puts his empty glass down with a thud. "The moonlight rings are in progress, I will live up to my word. We will find and punish whoever launched the attack on the Bayou. In the meantime, I _beseech_ you, Caroline, to stay away from Francesca Correa or anyone else who might pose a threat to you or our family, for your own safety."

Caroline frowns, leaning over towards Elijah. "Did he just use the word _beseech_?"

"I believe he did."

"Should we be worried?" she teases.

"Mock me all you want," he grumbles on, even more incensed than before. "But right now, all I will do is finish this bottle and the next in the hopes of drowning the demon that has chosen today to haunt me." He pours himself another shot and lifts his glass haphazardly in the air. "Cheers, Mikael! Impeccable Freudian timing."

"Mikael?" Caroline’s forehead creases.

All the lighthearted banter dies in an instant. Elijah turns to his brother, peering through his drunkenness. "Elaborate," he demands. Niklaus purses his lips, his face betraying a million different emotions, none of which are good. This can't just be a coincidence... That he would bring up Mikael exactly when Elijah... "Niklaus... Have you dreamt of our father?"

"Go ahead," he mutters, looking down at his glass. "Have a good laugh."

"I can assure you there isn't a piece of this that I find even remotely amusing. Especially considering I've been dreaming of him, too."

Klaus' eyes snap up at him, wide in shock. "What?"

"If you are also seeing him..." Elijah's eyes catch Genevieve just as the witch approaches the bar, staring directly at their table and waving with that cynical grin dancing on her lips. "Perhaps our elusive, unknown enemy is orchestrating a further attack."

" _Ugh_ ," Caroline grunts. "Excuse me while I go barf." She gets up and stomps out of the pub.

Niklaus lets out a heavy sigh next to him. "What do you think that means?"

Elijah keeps his gaze trained on the witch. "I think it means we need to pay your friend a visit."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

The visit to the Lycée proves fruitless.

Elijah couldn't obviously allow Niklaus to go on his own. His brother has the terrible habit of trying to take advantage of whatever weakness he spots in an adversary, and in Genevieve's case, that is very clearly himself. But he didn't even need to interfere. Klaus treated her with the same cold detachment he'd treat anyone he doesn't trust — like an enemy.

However, not even Niklaus' less than subtle threats were enough to extract anything from her. Genevieve denied having anything to do with the dreams or knowing what they were about.

"Do you believe her?" he asked his brother as they left.

"Not in the least."

So they're back to square one, having to figure out what the hidden meaning behind these dreams is. Nothing will convince Elijah that this is just an unfortunate coincidence. Perhaps he should call Rebekah and see if she's been plagued by the same nightmares.

"Back already from your double date with Klaus' girlfriend?"

Elijah turns away from the window to see that Caroline's joined him in the study room. She's smiling, but the sour lilt in her voice was undisguisable.

"Caroline," he admonishes.

"Yes, I'm bitter. Sue me," she snaps, dropping the pretense at last.

Elijah decides to ignore the obvious hard feelings she rightfully harbors towards Niklaus' past involvements with the witch and leave it for them to settle in whatever terms they see fit. Preferably not by breaking up again. "She denied everything," he says.

"And for once, she's not lying." He frowns at her. "I called Bonnie."

"Bonnie Bennett? Why would she know anything?"

"She was the anchor to the Other Side. I figured — if you're both dreaming of your dead father, it could be related."

"The anchor to the Other Side?"

Caroline rolls her eyes. "It's a long story, I'll explain it some other time. The thing is, I was right. The Other Side is collapsing. Imploding, was the word she used."

"What do you mean, imploding?"

"There's a purgatory that holds all supernatural souls once we die, right? The whole fabric of that is disappearing, and it's taking the souls of the dead with it."

"In other words, all supernatural beings are being torn away into nothingness," Niklaus cuts in, joining them with a hopeful grin on his face.

Caroline blinks suspiciously at his sudden bout of good mood. "Yeah, basically," she drawls. "And some of them are not interested in going quietly."

"So you're saying that our father, faced with permanent extinction, has decided to spend his remaining time tormenting us," Elijah muses. "How delightful."

"The good news is, it probably won't last for long," Caroline offers.

Niklaus claps his hands together, a dimpled smile breaking onto his face. The sad drunkard of this morning is nowhere to be seen. "So we'll be rid of his abhorrent soul forever," he says cheerfully. "And what a good riddance that will be."

"Wow. Your mood has gone from zero to one hundred in a blink,” Caroline says, eyeing him strangely.

"That's what fantastic news will do to you, love."

"I sure hope the news is all this is about," she says, whirling around and walking away.

Elijah almost laughs at the baffled look on his brother's face.

"What did I do?" he asks.

Never in his brother's life has he ever been in a serious relationship with anyone. He understands jealousy very well, of course, but only from his own perspective, which tends to be more dramatic and less nuanced than that of a normal person. Elijah looks forward to watching him squirm as he attempts to navigate these waters after one thousand years of not being held accountable for anything. If it doesn’t end badly, it’ll be most definitely entertaining.

Elijah arches his eyebrows at him, shrugging. "I have no idea.”

 

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When Caroline leaves the compound for a walk, she has Cami on her mind.

The day turned out to be busier than she expected and she never had a chance to give her friend a proper hug. She decides to stop by a restaurant she knows and grab some comfort food to offer as a makeshift sympathy casserole. Apparently that's the one thing people have failed to provide today. Handshakes, thoughts and prayers are much more effective on a full stomach, and grieving people hardly ever remember to eat. Sympathy casseroles helped Caroline through processing a very complex set of feelings after burying her father. When she could barely bother to leave her room, finding her fridge filled with things she could just stick her fork into and chew on was life-saving.

She's thinking of gumbo and maybe some beignets from that café Cami took her months ago, her mind blank of any directions, when she realizes she’s headed into a completely different part of the French Quarter. More residential, less touristy. Even though she's never been to this part of the city before, the place is instantly familiar to her, having spent days looking at all the old mansions lining up both sides of the street on Google Earth.

Francesca Correa's lavish home exudes money. Her dealings at the casino are definitely profitable. She's a degenerate crook, but then again so is almost everyone else in this city. Caroline lives with the oldest murderers still walking this earth, and they also have a thing for extravagant housing, so she's not easily impressed by these things. If all Francesca did was make easy money by feeding a bunch of idiots’ addictions, Caroline would have problems with her only on principle. She wouldn’t even make it to her list of concerns. The real problem is that Francesca is suddenly all over the place, leaving her imprint on things she has no business with. First the bomb in the Bayou, now Father Kieran. Then Cami.

Caroline can't see the connection, or why she'd have any interest in doing these things. Why would humans try to get in the middle of a war they can't fight? Why would she want to attract that kind of attention to herself? Just to get threatened and squashed? Or is there something they’re not seeing?

She's been obsessing over this for so long that her legs unwittingly bring her to the woman's doorstop. She did not plan at all on coming all the way here, doesn't even know exactly _what_ to do, but since she’s already here anyway, Caroline decides not to make the trip a waste of her time. Perhaps if she hadn't seen the way Francesca spoke to Cami earlier she wouldn't feel like confronting the woman, but that got Caroline's hackles up all over again.

She takes a look around the house, trying to see through the windows. Even though some of the lights on the first floor are on, the place seems to be empty. The garage is empty, so Francesca is probably still out. Caroline takes a seat on the front steps and makes herself comfortable.

The wait is not long, though. Just a few minutes later, the conspicuous black SUV Caroline's seen the Correa family driving up and down the French Quarter appears around the corner. Francesca's brothers are not with her, but she's not alone; her bodyguard is right behind as she walks to the front door.

The woman startles when she sees Caroline, but the surprise is quickly wiped off her face, replaced by a schooled nonchalance. "Ah," she says. "Caroline, isn't it? I'm guessing you're not here because you want to make a new friend."

"I don't really count terrorists as friends.”

Francesca snorts derisively. "I've been accused of everything, from grand larceny to blackmail. But terrorism? That's new."

Caroline stands to her feet, crossing her arms across her chest. Francesca’s little theatrics pretending to be insulted is kind of annoying; she's a terrible actress. You'd expect more from a mafia boss. "A human pulled up where I was living in the Bayou on a motorcycle and blew himself up," she says in a crisp tone, cutting straight to the point and pinning the woman under a hard look.

"I heard. Awful," Francesca replies flatly, putting her hand out for the bodyguard to give her her keys. "Good night."

She brushes by Caroline and unlocks her door. When Caroline makes to follow, the bodyguard grabs her arms, pulling her back. It's all she needed to snap. Caroline knees the man between the legs and then smashes his head against a flower vase, dropping his unconscious body to the ground. She then turns back to Francesca and, with a flick of her wrist, commands the door shut.

Francesca turns to her wide-eyed, visibly more alert now. Caroline grins; she knows the look on the woman's face only too well. People see a young blonde pregnant woman and immediately dismiss her as harmless. "Yes. I'm multi-talented," she says. It's exhausting to always be underestimated, having to put on shows of strength just to be taken seriously, but the shock across their faces once they realize Witch Barbie is a thorn on their side to be reckoned with is kind of priceless. "Word on the street is that he owed 100 grand to the Palace Royale Casino. And then, after he died, the debt was erased. Just like magic."

"Jeff was a fixture at my roulette table," Francesca tells her, finally betraying some irritation. "Sometimes he was up, sometimes he was down. I absolved his family of the debt he owed out of the goodness of my heart.” Caroline cocks her an unimpressed eyebrow. "Feel free to sniff around," Francesca gesticulates dismissively towards her own house. "You'll find nothing. My hands are clean. But I advise you to mind your manners. It's lucky you're still alive. You're the one the wolves all whisper about, with your royalty baby. If I was interested in hurting the wolves, you'd be my target."

Caroline narrows her eyes dangerously at her. "Is that a threat?"

"Not at all. It's a fair warning. Perhaps you shouldn't be walking around on your own at night, if you don't know who attacked the wolves and why. It wasn't me though." A vicious smirk creeps onto Francesca's lips, her eyes glinting with malice. "When I go after someone, I don't miss."

Caroline feels as a jolt of anger shoots across her body, her blood reaching boiling point as Francesca whirls around and goes into her house. She takes a steadying breath, willing herself to relax, or else she might end up setting fire to the house and starting a whole new incident.

She's more certain than ever that this woman isn't just your ordinary sketchy mobster. Everything about her rubs Caroline the wrong way. She has an angle. Caroline just needs to figure out _what_ is it that she's after.

Huffing out a frustrated breath, she turns around and goes back to the street. As she starts walking, she feels a chill up her spine, like it got considerably colder all of a sudden. She has the burning sensation of being watched, but the street is completely empty. Caroline looks back to the house, searching the windows, but if Francesca is there, she's hiding well.

If she were more like Klaus, she'd let her temper flare and give Francesca a real piece of her mind. But it may be too early for that. Without proof, she'd just be adding gas to an already explosive mix. As much as she’d like to watch Francesca burn, the little voice of reason in her head tells her it’s not a smart move, not when the werewolves just got attacked and Father Kieran just died, proving yet again how vulnerable everyone is.

Wrapping her cardigan more tightly around herself, Caroline decides to let it go. For now, anyway.

 

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The unsavory encounter with Francesca Correa leaves Caroline spitting fire and almost causes her to make a beeline home instead of visiting Camille, but she changes her mind once she passes by the restaurant she'd intended on ordering takeout from. And when she finally makes it to Cami's, she's very glad she didn't drop the idea altogether. One look at her friend and Caroline knows how desperately Cami was in need of a shoulder to cry on and a pair of hands to offer her the warm comfort food she does not have the required motivation to prepare herself.

"I hadn't eaten since last night," she confesses while Caroline takes over her kitchen to serve her a plate. "I'd forgotten what this was like. When Sean died, uncle Kieran was the one answering all the phone calls and thanking people for their thoughts and prayers. I didn't want to speak to anyone. Now, I don't have a choice. People I've never seen stopped by to talk to me at the church and my phone hasn't stopped chirping all day. I've just turned on the autopilot. Don't even think anymore, just say thank you and hang up. I'm pretty sure I've hung up on some people while they were still talking. I just want today to be over."

"I can go, if you want."

"Oh, please!" Cami protests around a mouthful. "The entire population of the French Quarter has given me their condolences, but no one's brought me sympathy gumbo. You have no idea how much you've improved my day already. I was probably gonna go to bed on an empty stomach. No, actually, I would've done worse. I would've gone through an entire bottle of wine before that, which means a hangover from hell tomorrow. And I still have to bury my uncle, so. Please. Stay."

And Caroline does. She lets the companionable silence spool out between them while Camille eats, clearly enjoying her meal. She thought she'd be starving herself by the time she got here, even asked for an extra large portion so the two of them could eat and Cami could still have some leftovers for tomorrow. But as soon as she opened the bag and smelled the deliciously hot food, Caroline's stomach rolled with a sudden wave of nausea. First that weird chill and now this. Perfect time to come down sick.

She tries her best not to think about the most unpleasant parts of her day, but it's kind of impossible. Her mind is still throbbing from that little _chat_ with Francesca, reeling back to that not-so-veiled threat. To the way she was talking to Camille at Rousseau's, bullying someone obviously grieving... It makes Caroline bristle. Hexes are evil, nasty things and Caroline's never hexed anyone in her entire life, but for the first time she actually felt the pull, her magic trembling inside of her, itching in the hollows of her hand, _begging_ to put a curse on that vile woman.

 _When I go after someone, I don't miss._ A mere mortal would never threaten a witch this way, especially not one currently living with two of the most powerful creatures to ever walk this earth. If Caroline tells Klaus about their encounter, he'll be on her front door to snap her neck before breakfast. Francesca's _met_ Klaus. _And_ Elijah. She knows how fiercely protective they are, and, more importantly, how unapologetically prone to violence. So she either has a death wish, or she's got something big under her sleeve to back her up. The attitude tonight tells Caroline it's probably the latter.

"Cami," Caroline starts after a while, a thoughtful crease between her eyebrows. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"I saw Francesca Correa _talking_ to you at the bar today."

Cami lets out a displeased grunt, rolling her eyes. Her mild expression immediately morphs into one of hostility. "Don't even get me started on that woman."

"What did she want? I take it she wasn't paying her respects."

Cami snorts derisively. "Definitely not. She wanted to know about a key."

"A key?"

"Apparently the head of the human faction is in charge of keeping some key safely away from supernatural hands. She claimed, since she has been conveniently _chosen_ to take my uncle's chair, that the key now belongs to her, even though it's apparently been in my family for ages."

"And what key is that?" Cami puts a hand down the front of her dress and pulls out a long chain with a key dangling from it. Caroline's eyes widen in shock. "You _have_ it?"

"She doesn't know that."

"You told her you didn't have it and she bought it?"

"Well, I didn't know what she was talking about then, so it wasn't a lie. My uncle never told me anything about any keys, and I certainly never saw him carrying it. So I told her the truth, that I had no idea what the hell she was talking about."

"Ok, wait," Caroline says, shaking her head at the confusing chain of events. "If you didn't know anything about it this morning, how do you have it now?"

Cami sighs, putting away her empty plate. "Marcel gave it to me."

" _Marcel_ had the key that was supposed to stay _out_ of supernatural hands?"

"He knew about the key, and he also knew that as soon as my uncle was dead, _someone_ would be showing up to take it. So as soon as he fell ill, he sent Josh to lift it off of him."

"That's… Kinda awful, actually."

"It is. But he wasn't wrong. Someone _did_ show up very keen on claiming ownership over it."

Caroline goes quiet for a moment, trying to put all the pieces together. Marcel must have suspected Kieran's untimely _illness_ and correctly assumed that Francesca could be the one behind it. Caroline has no warm feelings for Klaus' former protege at the moment, but it seems even from across the river he was able to pick up on Francesca's strange movements around the Quarter, and the way everything is slowly but surely going her way.

"What does it open?" Caroline asks, nodding towards the plain looking key in her friend’s hand. If someone had mentioned a mysterious key keeping some kind of treasure that needs to be protected from supernatural creatures, she'd imagine something grandiose, made of gold and studded with gemstones. Not a rusty-looking tiny thing that looks like it might open someone's front door. And not even a particularly nice front door.

"That's the thing," Cami says. "I have no idea."

"What do you mean, you have no idea? Didn't Marcel tell you?"

"He doesn't know either."

Caroline blinks slowly. "What?"

"He says he knew about the key, but Kieran never told him what it was for. Only that it was important."

"And you believed him?"

Cami looks away from Caroline, down to the key in her hand. "I think he means well." Caroline scoffs, shaking her head. "I know you think he's scum because of what he did to Klaus a million years ago. And it was truly awful, but... Marcel's not a bad guy. He's an old vampire, and you know better than anyone the kind of baggage those come with. We've grown closer over the last few months, and I know he respected my uncle. Kieran helped him save Davina and hid her for months at the church. I don't think Marcel would lie to me. Not about this."

Caroline peers at her friend thoughtfully. "Well, clearly I'm in no position to judge your unwavering faith in old skeevy vampires," she says, pointing to her own swollen stomach. It draws a smile from Cami. "I just... Don't trust him."

"Caroline, he's not behind the bombs in the Bayou," Cami says earnestly, holding her gaze levelly. "Marcel is capable of a lot of things, but he wouldn't do _that_. He'd never hurt children."

Caroline twines her fingers together, resting her hands on top of her stomach. "I don't think he did it either. At least, if I had to bet, my money wouldn't be on him. But it doesn't change how I feel. I don't trust anyone these days. And this feels important. Francesca looked like she was seriously threatening you." Cami purses her lips but doesn't deny it. "If she finds out you have it -"

"I know the risks," Cami cuts her off. "This is my uncle we're talking about, Caroline. My family. If he died because of this key, just so she could get her hands on it, I need to find out what it's for. And whatever it is, all I know is I don't want her to have it."

Caroline knows the fiery look in Cami's eyes, she knows that steely determination behind her voice. It's exactly what she's been like so many times in the past few months while fighting Klaus and Elijah's overprotectiveness. Which is how she knows instantly that it's useless to argue against Cami. Caroline would do the exact same thing in her place, witchy powers or not. She can't help the worry coiling around her stomach, though. Losing Eve crushed her; she can't handle losing anybody else. Camille may be smart and resilient, but she's still only human, which makes her an easy target in a city like New Orleans.

Caroline lets out a sharp gust of air, maneuvering herself up from the chair. "Why do you have to be so much like me?" she grumbles as she stalks over to the door.

"Where are you going?" Cami asks, swirling around on the couch.

Caroline takes a deep breath, puts her palms flat against the door, and starts chanting lowly under her breath. This is a spell she would never be able to perform without a few ingredients or something to chanel, but thanks to baby girl Mikaelson, she has more than enough magic swirling around her veins to not only make it happen, but give it a proper boost.

After a minute or so, she feels the magic closing in around the house, threads of energy coming together to form an invisible barrier, surrounding the entire apartment like a cloak. Other witches might be able to sense it, since the signature force is quite strong. But, at least for now, it doesn't seem like Cami might be on the witches' hit list, so this should do. It's not much, but it's _something_. At least here, in her own place, Cami will be safe.

"It's done," she announces, turning back to Camille, who's looking at her with her lips parted and a questioning crease between her eyebrows. "It's a boundary spell," she explains. "No one will be able to come inside unless you invite them in. Vampires already can't, but this will keep out everyone else as well." Caroline walks over to Cami, falling back onto the couch next to her. "Maybe refrain from inviting in anyone you don't know for a while. Delivery guys, neighbors, hot dates -"

"Like I've been having many of those," Cami derides around an eyeroll.

Caroline smiles at her. "You should invite Marcel, though. It'll be useful to have him around, in case things get ugly. And _please_ , whatever you do, promise you'll tell me if you think you're in danger."

Cami wraps a hand around Caroline's shoulder, pulling her into a half embrace and laying her head on her shoulder. "What would I do without you?"

"You were there for me in one of the scariest moments of my life, Cami," she says quietly, tilting her head to rest against her friend's. "We look out for each other."

 

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After the ceremony at St. Anne's Church, Father Kieran's funeral procession takes the streets of the French Quarter. It seems the entire city is in attendance. Even a couple of werewolves have made it out of the Bayou, which they haven't been doing at all lately, not since the bombings. Jackson Kenner has been keeping the entire camp under surveillance, issuing warnings to everyone against leaving the community for long. Every time someone can't be accounted for, panic immediately spreads. The consequences of the attack are far and vast, and the only reason they haven't retaliated yet, effectively bringing war to the streets of New Orleans, is because Niklaus has promised them the moonlight rings by the next full moon. But their presence today goes to show Father Kieran was a respected man even amongst the Bayou folks. Jackson must've allowed them a pass to come pay their respects, though the Crescents’ alpha himself is nowhere to be seen.

Elijah gets that the procession is part of the city's traditions and that this was Kieran's wish, to be honored in true New Orleans style. He had been taking care of his community long before he was even appointed as the head of the human faction, and Elijah can appreciate the man's character, even if they weren't exactly friends. But for once he has to agree with Niklaus. All the music and the dancing and the clueless tourists joining in or taking pictures makes it feel more like a party than a funeral. As beloved as Kieran was, it’s good to remember he’s _dead_. What is there to celebrate? It's a bit farfetched to his tastes.

It is, however, a lovely day, so the walk is at the very least pleasant, if not a tad anticlimactic.

The only person who doesn't seem to be enjoying it is Caroline.

She woke up with a persistent cough and it’s only gotten worse since. This is probably the warmest day they've had in a while, but Caroline has her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders, like she's feeling terribly cold. Klaus' had a permanent frown on his face since she first started coughing and it is deepening into a scowl now that the fits are getting more frequent.

While Elijah would be the first to point out Niklaus' tendencies towards overreacting, he can understand his brother's concerns perfectly. It's normal for Caroline to get pains, sore muscles and discomforts every now and then, but, at least in theory, the baby's healing blood should prevent her from coming down with any longer lasting illnesses, such as a cold. Which is why her current situation rings all sorts of bells.

"Are you sure you're all right?" his brother inquires as they march through the streets, Caroline standing between the two of them. "You look -"

"A hundred months pregnant and hormonal as hell?" she cuts him off, clearing her throat. The coughing is leaving her in a mood.

"I was going to say _lovely_."

Elijah smiles at his brother's attempt at smoothness. Caroline cocks her head to the side, giving him an unimpressed look.

"God, I hate that woman," she mutters all of a sudden. Elijah follows her gaze and finds Francesca Correa, walking a little ahead of them, surrounded by all her 800 mobster brothers.

"You're fixating, love,” Niklaus says.

"Damn right I am. She's awful. I'm pretty sure she's the one behind the attack."

"And how would you know that?" Elijah asks.

"I just do," she states with determination. "But I can't figure out why she would do that, or connect her to it. The way she talked, though..." Caroline trails off, a shadow crossing her eyes.

"Have you been speaking to her?" Klaus questions tartly.

"I saw her yesterday."

"Saw her?" Klaus parrots, clearly crossed. "Caroline, unless you tell me you casually bumped into her while taking an innocent stroll around the French Quarter -"

"Does it matter how it happened? I saw her, we had a _chat_."

"Meaning you went to interrogate her about the bombs."

Caroline shrugs. "Somebody had to."

Klaus grunts, his face crumpling up into a grimace. He opens his mouth like he's about to spit fire, but Elijah beats him to it. "Niklaus," he admonishes calmly. "Careful now."

His brother snaps his mouth shut, glaring at Elijah, but the warning seems to take effect. The last thing they need right now is for the two of them to start a lovers quarrel in the middle of a funeral procession, before the eyes of the entire city and some inconvenient tourists.

"My condition to return to the compound was no more surveillance. You agreed," Caroline reminds him.

"That was before I knew you'd be conducting private conversations with our enemies," Klaus fires back, his voice dropping to a much more restrained tone, but still seething.

Caroline turns to him with a sharp glint in her eyes. "She has more reason to be scared of me than I am of her," she bites out before picking up her pace to join Camille at the front.

Elijah sighs. "Very heartfelt, Niklaus."

"Oh? So you're ok with her antagonizing a mobster who's got half the city on the palm of her hand all on her own? Humans may be weak individuals, but once they unionize against us, they can cause damage. And last I checked, however powerful and resourceful she may be, Caroline is still very much mortal."

"I am well aware, brother, I never said I approved of it. I would just rather you took these discussions back home instead of upsetting her out on the street, where everyone can see _and_ hear you," he says, bobbing his head towards the Correa clan.

Klaus lets out a huffing breath, stuffing his hands in his pockets and shaking his head. "I bloody hate funerals."

 

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"Cami!" Caroline calls as she jogs up to her friend, who's walking right behind the carriage-like thing pulled by horses taking the casket to the cemetery. Her eyes are puffy and red, but as soon as she sees Caroline, her lips break into a tiny smile.

"Caroline," she says warmly. "Hi."

She takes Cami's hand, giving her a gentle squeeze. "How are you holding up this morning?"

"Oh, you know.” Her friend shrugs and leaves it at that.

Cami's strong, and she's handling all this a lot better than Caroline thinks she ever would, but she knows for a fact the worst part comes later. Funerals are terrible, but they give you something to focus on: all the bureaucracy and the practical parts work almost as an abstraction. It's the silence after the storm that is brutal. When the absence becomes tangible and reality comes crashing, hard.

She can't help but remember Elena. She wasn't even 18 when she lost her parents, her aunt, her uncle who turned out to be biological father, Alaric... When she lost Jeremy as well, she lost the last thread still holding her together. It was too much for her to take. Elena’s mental strength and courage were astounding, but even she had a breaking point.

Cami's not a teenager anymore, but she's had to deal with so much loss already. Kieran was everything she had left. She doesn't have the same option as Elena, to turn off her emotions so she won't have to deal with the pain and the grief. Like everyone else, she'll just have to soldier on through soul-crushing feelings. And Caroline knows those only too well… It's awful.

She feels so powerless... Eve, now Kieran... All these good people being eliminated all over New Orleans in the name of a war she can't help but feel has a lot to do with her, too. With her baby, who's weeks away from being born. She's so done being pregnant, but suddenly she finds herself wishing the baby would stay put for another six months. Things have only gotten worse since she was brought to this city, chaos tears through the streets and gives no indication of slackening. The last thing Caroline wants is to bring her daughter into the world in the middle of this mess.

"You know I'm here, right?" she mutters softly to Cami, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "If this gets too much, you can -" Another coughing fit cuts her off. Caroline covers her mouth with her hand and turns away from Cami. "God, this is annoying."

"Are you ok?" Camille asks, concerned.

"Yeah, it's just -" More coughing. "This really annoying cough."

"Are you sure it's ok for you to be out here, marching?"

"I'm fine, just -" Caroline's throat burns, her eyes watering as a stronger wave hits her, lasting longer this time. "I'm sorry. I'm just gonna - Take a minute. I'll see you at the cemetery, ok?"

"You don’t have to -."

Caroline motions for her to wait as she steps out of the procession, doubling over from all the coughing. Her vision begins to swim before her, her stomach roiling with nausea. She grunts at the sudden pain in her chest, like a fist tightening around her heart, stopping it. Caroline feels like she's about to throw up, but what comes out of her is thick and viscous. Dark. _Blood_.

Before she has any time to freak out, the world tips crazily around her and then it gives way to darkness.

 

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She comes to with a stabbing ache in her stomach, the coppery taste of blood coating her mouth. Her eyes fly wide open and she sits up so fast she almost gets whiplash, her hand landing protectively on her belly.

The room sways lightly before it finally comes into focus. Caroline regards her surroundings, confused. She's certain she was out on the street, but she just woke up back at the compound. Except... It looks different. Everything seems washed out and colorless, a bit blurry, as though she’s seeing through some dirty lenses. She scrubs her eyes with the back of her hands, but nothing changes. She takes a deep, steadying breath, trying to think, but the air feels stuffy and charged, weighing down in her lungs as though it were heavy.

A violent chill rushes up her spine as she climbs off the table she'd been lying on - how the hell did she get here? - looking around the empty courtyard. Not a single sound, not even filtering in from the street.

 _This is weird_ , she thinks. The last thing she remembers is pulling out of the processions and coughing her lungs out until there was blood in her hands. She’s wearing the same clothes, but her hands as perfectly clean now. Could this be a dream? _A weirdly realistic one at that_.

"Well, well, well." Caroline swirls around, startled by the voice coming from behind her. "I was looking forward to meeting you."

The man speaks in a heavy British accent that isn't immediately familiar to her. When he finally steps out of the shadows, Caroline is met by a cold and icy stare and a smile that does nothing to soothe the cruelty written across his features. She recoils, taking an unconscious step back, his eyes boring into her, hostile and mean. Caroline's face stills and sets.

It takes a moment, but it finally hits her — she knows this man. She's never seen him in person, but she's been hearing about him for ages. The world's most ruthless vampire hunter. The one who hunted the Original family — _his_ family - for over a thousand years. _The destroyer._

"Mikael," she breathes out, fear tearing through her.

His lips curl back into a vile grin. "I suppose we could say... We're family now."

 

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"I can hear the baby's heartbeat, but not hers," Niklaus utters as he puts Caroline down on the table, his voice laced with despair.

They were mindlessly following the procession when they heard Genevieve calling out to Klaus. She was further ahead with the rest of the witches, Elijah hadn't even seen her yet.

"Oh, for God’s sake," Klaus grumbled next to him, already vexed. Elijah smirked as his brother lagged behind, shrinking into himself as he tried to hide from sight.

“If only all your mistakes followed you around like that witch, Niklaus…” Elijah mused. “Perhaps then you would learn -”

" _Klaus_!" she shouted once more, with such urgency this time that she caught even Elijah’s attention. She was pointing towards something on the sidewalk. Klaus craned his neck and stepped away from the crowd to get a better look, and then Elijah saw all the color drain out of his face.

"Niklaus," he called, but his brother didn't hear him. Even though they were out in the open and in front of hundreds of locals and tourists, he flashed away. Elijah followed, and his own heart sank as he saw his brother lifting Caroline's unconscious body off the ground, her face smeared with blood.

"I saw her step out of the line, I thought she was throwing up," Genevieve said as she joined them. Elijah eyed her suspiciously, and she returned his gaze with a hard look. "I didn't do anything, I just saw when she started puking blood."

They weren't far from the compound, and it seemed like the most obvious place to go, so they took a detour to escape the crowd and, flashing through alleys and deserted streets, were there in less than a minute.

"She's not breathing," Niklaus says, his voice quivering as he combs the hair away from her face. His face crumples into an anguished grimace. "She's so cold…"

"I can help," Genevieve offers, taking a bold step forward, but Niklaus roars at her like an animal, baring his fangs and flashing his golden eyes.

"Don't touch her!" he snarls.

Genevieve flinches, her face going suddenly stiff.

"Niklaus," Elijah pleads, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder, trying his best to hide his own fear as to not tip him off the edge. "She used to be a nurse."

Klaus looks at him as though he's gone completely insane, and maybe he has. For some reason, though, he doesn't feel Genevieve wants to harm Caroline. If she'd somehow been involved in this, she wouldn't have warned them. Besides, they don't know what's wrong with her. If anyone will know, whether it’s magical or a human affliction, it’s the witch with medical training.

Klaus grits his teeth at Elijah, but takes a tentative step away from the table, allowing the witch to approach.

"There's a spell I can do to find out what’s wrong with her," she says. "Klaus, get chamomile from the pantry." His brother hesitates for a heartbeat, but then he takes off. "She's trembling... Elijah, your jacket."

He takes off his jacket and places it gently on top of her, his fingers brushing briefly against her unnaturally cold skin. Her face grows paler and paler by the second. Elijah feels sick.

"If you did this to her -"

"It wasn't me," Genevieve says in a clipped, incisive tone. "Believe it or not, Elijah, I have no intention to harm this baby."

"You locked her in a house and set fire to it," he snaps back, glaring.

Genevieve looks away from him, down at Caroline's immovable form. "That was before," she replies, almost sheepishly.

 _Before what?_ Elijah wonders, but he doesn't have time to ask. Niklaus returns with the chamomile, pushing it into her hands. Genevieve wraps it around a cloth, places her hand on top of Caroline's forehead and starts chanting.

Klaus steps away, scrubbing both hands across his face. Despite the fear unfurling in his guts, the despair threatening to take over, Elijah forces himself to remain calm for the sake of his brother. He knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that if anything happens to Caroline here, Niklaus will lose it. Not just his control, but whatever shreds of humanity he still has left in him.

He turns back to Genevieve, who has her eyes closed and appears to be concentrated. Whatever she's doing, however, is not working fast enough. Caroline's heart remains unbeating, and the baby’s has slowed down as well.

Klaus lets out a loud grunt, pulling back the sleeves of his jacket and biting violently on his own wrist. He pushes Genevieve away and puts his arm on Caroline's mouth, one hand cradling her head affectionately.

"Come on, sweetheart," he pleads, desperate. "Come on... Please, Caroline, please... Don't leave me."

Elijah shuts his eyes against the pain shooting through his chest.

"She's still not breathing," he says, lifting his head to look from Elijah to Genevieve, a despondent and overbright look in his eyes. "It's not working..." Niklaus lets out a painful, enraged wail, picking up a chair and throwing it across the courtyard. The sound is so raw, so damaged, Elijah almost can't believe it's coming from the Original hybrid.

They're losing her. They're losing the baby. And he's losing his brother.

 

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"This is a nightmare," Caroline mutters under her breath like a mantra, taking careful steps back as Mikael — _Mikael_ — approaches her. How the hell is he here?! "I'm dreaming. This isn't real."

She blinks slowly, hoping that the next time she opens her eyes he'll be gone.

"On the contrary, my darling. This is very real. I assume my reputation precedes me." He makes a vague gesture with his hand and then, way too fast for her to react, closes the distance between them, grabbing her by the throat. "Welcome to my hell," he grits out, his eyes flashing. "Stuck in an eternity watching over that hideous creature my children call brother."

"How can you be here? You're dead!" Caroline closes her hands around his forearm and squeezes. Mikael's eyes widen in surprise at her strength, and she takes the moment to twist out of his grip. "How can I be..."

She stops talking all of a sudden as realization downs on her. If Mikael's dead, and she's seeing him, _feeling_ him... Then it can only mean... "No... No, I can't be..." She puts an arm across her stomach, her heart pounding with panic.

This is the Other Side.

She's dead.

"The baby..."

"The baby?!" Mikael snarls, furious. "That child never had any chance! You're a witch, protector of the balance and nature, and you poison your bloodline by merging it with Niklaus' _filth_?!" He lets out a mirthless laughter, a terrible sound that reverberates across the walls. "That deathless vermin, fancying himself a _daddy_. Pathetic!"

His words steel something inside of her. Caroline's still very much scared, but white, hot anger rears to the front. Her face sets, her eyes alight with blazing courage. She puts her hand out, calling out to her magic with a kind of determination she hadn't felt in a long while. Mikael's leg bends and breaks at her command, tearing a painful howl from his throat.

"My daughter is not dead," she hisses. "And neither am I. If I was, you wouldn't be trying to kill me."

"Look at what that filth has already done to you." He looks up at her with disgust, breathing hard through his teeth as he tries to push himself off the floor. "Your eyes... The eyes of a beast."

"I was there when he bested you. When he _killed_ you, you piece of trash." Technically, she wasn't. She was supposed to be, but Tyler drugged her and dragged her away, afraid the hybrids would kill everyone if Klaus ended up dead — ignoring the fact that, as one of them and still sired, he might've felt like retaliating as well, wherever he was. She never got to see Mikael's face or what happened at the end of the night, but he doesn't know that. "Your son already destroyed you."

" _He is not my son!_ He's a scourge, a walking symbol of weakness! And there is no saving that atrocity festering in your womb. Niklaus will destroy it one way or another. Better it dies now. And you along with it!"

He charges at her again, but this time she's prepared. Caroline moves out of the way and uses magic to throw him against the opposite wall. He crashes onto a vase with a loud grunt and a few cracked ribs.

The more he talks about Klaus, the angrier she gets. She knew how terrible Mikael was — how cruel and sadistic. She's been hearing stories about him for years. But being here, in front of him, Caroline realizes she had no idea. This man is the very reason his children are all broken and damaged. He created them, helped Esther make monsters of them all, slit them with his own sword while they slept — and then he spent a thousand years persecuting them, destroying everything they ever dared to care for, leaving a trail of violence and hatred wherever he went, as though they were responsible for their own damnation. They never had a chance to be normal, _human_.

And he's the one thing Klaus has ever been afraid of in his life. The man he grew up calling father. Caroline knows that feeling only too well. She knows what it's like to look into the eyes of your parent and see nothing but contempt, to be tortured at the hands of the person who should protect and love you the most. It's a wound that never closes. Mikael scarred his sons and daughter forever, and then he blamed them for it.

Caroline will be damned if she'll let this monster end her daughter's life just to punish Klaus, like a thousand years of abuse wasn't more than enough.

"You chose a very bad time to talk shit about my daughter's father," she grits out, using her powers to break a piece of the railing and wield it like a stake. "You do not know the month I've had."

Caroline throws the stake at Mikael, straight into his chest. He screams in pain, writhing on the floor like the mediocre man that he is. She approaches him, grabbing the end of the stake with both her hands and twisting it in and up, into his heart.

"My daughter has an advantage Klaus never had," she mutters to him, making sure he’s looking into her eyes as she finishes him off. "She will never, _ever_ know you."

 

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Time moves painfully slow when you're waiting for a miracle to come.

"We should take her to a real doctor," Elijah says. Or that's what Klaus thinks he says, anyway. He can't be sure because his brother's voice is just background noise. Klaus has canceled out all sounds, focusing exclusively on the deafening silence of Caroline's heart. He can hear the baby's, but not hers. Genevieve must be chanting now for hours. Days. Eons. He doesn't know, has lost all touch with reality. All he knows is that it's been too long, and still she's not breathing. Caroline remains dead.

"If you move her, my spell will break!" he hears the snap in Genevieve's voice, blinking the scene in front of him back into focus. Caroline, lying motionless on top of their garden table, her face pale but for the blood-red stains on her lips and chin, her hair spread around her head like a golden halo. Elijah's trying to pick her up, but Genevieve has leaned over her body protectively, giving Elijah a hard, fierce look. She seems determined. Why would she be so determined to save Caroline? "There won't be enough time to get her to a hospital, she will die."

"She's already -" Elijah stops himself, scrubs a hand across his face. Then he turns to Klaus, an apology scribbled across the hard lines on his forehead. Klaus wonders if his brother can see the mirror of his nerves on his face, whether he's feeling the same splintering pain across his chest, the same mind-numbing fear coiling in his guts. "We can't lose the baby," Elijah says, softly.

Klaus grinds his teeth together against the twinge in his chest. "I can't lose her." His voice barely makes it past the hard lump in his throat, sounding distant to his own ears. "I can't lose either of them."

He lets out a sharp breath, on the edge of panic. Strangely, he's not angry, not yet. The rage will certainly come in due time. Right now, there's no space for anything else but dread. Klaus feels as though the floor dissolved underneath him and he got sucked into a black pit that has no end to its falling. Each glass-grinding second that passes without Caroline's heart beating, he feels sicker, weaker.

Genevieve gasps, and both brothers snap their heads towards her. Her eyes are wide with shock. "I know what to do. Elijah, get my bag. The gris-gris pouch. Now!" she commands with urgency.

Klaus approaches the table again. He swallows down against the ache in his heart; just looking at Caroline like this feels like getting pierced by a thousand knives.

"Please," he speaks, his voice pitched low and breaking around the edges, tears pricking behind his eyes. "Don't let her die."

"I'm trying," Genevieve replies earnestly.

Elijah returns with the pouch and she retrieves something from inside, holding it on top of Caroline's belly while her other hand rests on her forehead. She shuts her eyes and picks up the chanting once more.

A moment later, Caroline's eyes fly open, electric and wide. Her back arches as she gasps for air as though she'd been underwater. Klaus holds her, putting a hand behind her back and holding her chin with the other, forcing her to look at him. "It's ok, you're ok," he coos. "You're all right, love. You're all right." A desperate breath claws its way out of his body and even as he tries to support Caroline, he feels every muscle in his body trembling.

Caroline wraps her hand around his forearm in a tight grip, her breath ragged as she sits up, her eyes never leaving his face. She's shaking even harder than he is. Klaus takes Elijah's jacket that slid off her as she sat up and wraps it around her shoulders.

"I saw him." Her voice quivers, weak and raspy, barely above a whisper. "He tried to kill me."

"Who?" Elijah asks.

Caroline hesitates. "Mikael."

Klaus' jaw immediately sets as he exchanges an icy glance with his brother.

He knew it was too good to be true... The Other Side collapsing, Mikael's damned soul gone forever... That devil has returned from the depths of hell to torment them again. Won't he ever leave them in peace?

 

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Caroline seems to be recovering fast, now that whatever was plaguing her has been thwarted. Color has returned to her cheeks, and even the baby's heartbeat has grown stronger once more, but her eyes are still haunted, and when she tries to stand, her knees threaten to give in due to a lingering dizziness. Niklaus picks her up in his arms and takes her up the stairs to her room, and all the while Elijah watches Genevieve.

His brother doesn't even acknowledge his former lover, barely spares her a glance, before disappearing from sight. All he has eyes for is Caroline, but she’s hardly the only thing on his mind. Niklaus was awfully quiet, his expression pinched and grim.

He's thinking about Mikael.

Their father always did get to him in ways Elijah could never fully comprehend. His contempt since Niklaus was a boy made their brother always try his hardest to win his affection, to please him in any way he could. And the more he tried, the more Mikael seemed to despise him. He'd find fault in absolutely everything, and if Niklaus ever proved to be more capable than any of the others at an activity, which he frequently did, Mikael became twisted with rage. He'd punish him for being too good with a sword, with the bow and arrow, with a hunting knife. _"You think yourself better than your brothers, boy?! Arrogant brat!"_ He took pleasure in seeing him cry, beg for forgiveness for things he never did, things he couldn’t even understand.

Even from beyond the veil, that hideous man could not let Niklaus be. For the first time in centuries, his brother has a true shot at happiness. Something that can change him forever, finally put to rest the trauma and abuse he was subjected to for his whole mortal life as he becomes a father himself. Niklaus can right all the wrong that was done to him. Mikael was probably consumed with fury on the Other Side, watching as the son he always loathed found love and a family of his own. He had one day of touch with this world as the supernatural purgatory crumbled and he chose to use it to try and hit Niklaus where it would hurt the most by taking away the most precious things in the world to him: Caroline and the baby.

Elijah can only imagine what must be going through Niklaus' head right now. By the looks of it, nothing good. If he knows his brother at all, this will eat at him all night. All week. Maybe longer.

Even though Caroline and her child are safe, Elijah feels defeated. Not having protected Niklaus from Mikael as he should've is the greatest regret of his mortal life, and he’s carried all of it with him into the immortal one. If he'd succeeded in killing Caroline, his father would've been taking her and his niece from him as well. But he didn't do it to get back at Elijah; it was all about Klaus. It is always about Klaus.

His brother has all the faults in the world, can hardly be considered a _victim_ as this point, given all the great evil he has done to a great number of people, so twisted and broken he's become over the centuries, but Elijah can't help but wonder if he wouldn't be a better person altogether if he could just find some peace. Won't he ever be allowed an honest opportunity to change?

If anyone can touch the humanity deeply buried within the darkness that's corrupted Niklaus' soul, that's Caroline. And Genevieve seems to have realized it as well. Her face is a mask of impassiveness as Klaus walks away with the mother of his child, but the witch's icy blue eyes betray far more than she probably intends. She doesn't seem angry though, or even bitter; she looks heartbroken.

Foolish woman...

"That is never a good idea," he offers. She turns to him, her eyebrows arched in question. "To develop feelings for my brother. It hardly ever pays off."

The woman looks away from him, pressing her lips into a fine line as she collects her belongings.

"Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome," comes her stilted reply. "I'd take her to a doctor once she's gotten some rest, but I'm sure she's in the clear.”

“Yes, it sounds like a good idea to have a second opinion.”

“Whatever you might think of me, Elijah, I'm not a monster."

"You tore my sister from my family. I cannot forgive that."

"Your sister reaped what she sowed," she says, leveling him with a challenging look. "I won't apologize for that."

"I didn't think you would. Just wanted to make that clear. I'm grateful for what you did today, as I'm sure my brother is. But you're still not welcome here."

"Well, then. I'll see myself out."

A more sensible part of Elijah wonders if perhaps he shouldn't be more gracious towards an all-powerful witch, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t forgive her for breaking up his family. She almost destroyed everything. Whatever fault his sister might have, Elijah won't ever stand against her. His loyalties are unshakable.

He busies himself with fixing the mess at the courtyard before moving on to the study room to pour himself a much needed drink. Another day, another attack against the life of his unborn niece. He wonders if this is what this child's life will be like every single day. How are they supposed to keep her safe once she's born? Won't she ever be able to go to school? Have friends? And what about when she is grown, at that age when young girls start dating? Niklaus will be delightful, Elijah can already tell. But not without reason. How are they ever going to trust anyone who comes near her, when so many have tried to take her life before she is even born?

These are matters that will have to be discussed. Perhaps Caroline should go back to Mystic Falls, after all. The city is not without its own perils, but it's nothing compared to the reigning catastrophe in New Orleans. And at least there she'll know the vast majority of the city will want her child _safe_ , whereas here it is the exact opposite. Klaus would never let them go on their own, though, and Elijah cannot imagine his brother wanting to return to their birth place. It's a wonder he spent as much time there as he did before. Their homeland brings nothing but awful memories back. For one thousand years they've wanted nothing more than to escape those roots that insisted on chasing them in the form of their father. It's probably the last place Niklaus would ever want to raise his daughter in.

Elijah is pulled out of his contemplation by the sound of glass shattering not too far down the hall. So it’s begun. He lets out a weary sigh and gets up, meaning to go to his brother. He will certainly be in one of his famous moods tonight. As he passes by Caroline's room, however, he sees her sitting on her bed, both hands on top of her belly. She's changed out of her bloodied clothes and got herself cleaned up, but her distant gaze is still stricken with fear. He's suddenly hit by a sense of deja-vu; how many times has he seen this scene now?

She flinches when he knocks on the door.

"Forgive me," he says softly. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't. I'm just a little... Jumpy, I guess."

"How are you feeling?"

Caroline scoffs softly. "Ask me again tomorrow."

Elijah goes quiet, his eyes sliding away from her for a moment, then back. "Did my father... Did he hurt you?"

"He tried. But I guess he was a little misinformed about me," she says, grinning shortly. "My Barbie Witch looks will sometimes cause the wrong impression."

A flicker of humor shows on his brown eyes. "My father was always a terrible judge of character. Nevertheless... I am sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Elijah."

"I feel like my family does nothing but bring you pain."

Caroline touches her belly again, her lips curling into a genuine smile as she looks back up at him. "Not all pain."

"You're quite resilient. Fighters, both of you."

She shrugs. "I guess we've had to be, especially lately."

Elijah cuts the distance between them and, leaning forward, places a long kiss on top of Caroline's head, finally allowing a measure of relief to wash over him. "You gave us quite the scare today. Let me know if you need anything. Anything at all."

She turns her clear gaze up to him again. "Thank you."

More glass shattering further down the hall, and the two of them exchange a knowing look.

"That's the second already," Caroline murmurs.

"He's... struggling," Elijah says. "I should go talk to him."

"No," she says, pushing herself off the bed. "Let me."

Elijah regards her for a heartbeat — heavily pregnant, slightly shaken, having just recovered from being dead for a few minutes. She should be resting, replenishing her energy, but still a flame burns behind her eyes, and her determination is palpable, as is her concern for Niklaus. Elijah nods his head once, stepping out of her way. Caroline gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze, and he places his hand on top of hers, so grateful that he’s still able to do this, before she walks out.

 

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Klaus doesn't know how to retire into a drink and mourn quietly. He has issues expressing his feelings — the good ones, anyway, love and compassion and mercy — but he certainly wears his pain and his anger as bright as a supernova, sucking everyone around him into it. Crashing and burning is his favored way to deal with soul-afflicting agony; the faster he sets fire to it, the faster it'll be gone. Or so he seems to think. Clearly there's a flaw in his logic, if he still hasn't been able to shake off some of those afflictions. Instead of exorcising his demons, he buries them deeper within. It's inevitable that, at some point, they'll just come spilling out again.

Caroline is not surprised to see that he's transformed his room into an extension of the wreck that he obviously feels on the inside. The glasses they heard were by far not the only things he's destroyed. Canvases, paintings, easels, his own brushes, half of his bookshelves... He tore it all apart.

She supposes they should be grateful he's taken it all out on _things_ , instead of going out to ravage people.

Klaus was insufferable the day before just because he had a bad dream about Mikael. The mood he's in right now... It’s something else. Getting Klaus riled up is easier than stealing candy from a child, but nothing gets to him quite like the man he calls his father. Caroline won't presume to understand how he feels, but she can sympathize. Her own nasty dad is a bit of an open wound as well, even years after his death. There's a kind of heartache that comes from being rejected and humiliated by someone you can't help but love that is hard to erase.

She steps over the remains of his outburst to find him at the balcony, staring out into the night. The expression on his face is taut and grim, his eyebrows pinched at the center. There's blood around his feet, and she realizes he must've hurt himself while he tore the room apart. She approaches him gingerly, like someone who approaches a wild animal, and takes his hand in hers to take a closer look. It's stained with blood, but whatever cut was there has already closed. If only the cuts in his soul would heal as easily as the ones on his body.

Even as she stands next to him, Klaus looks distant, trapped in some faraway memory. She studies the hard lines of his face, the way his shoulder is taut with tension, the stormy blue of his eyes. That's the old Klaus she sees there, the heartless monster who arrived in Mystic Falls years ago hell-bent on murdering Elena. The Klaus Mikael shaped when he chased his children out of the city they loved and cherished, their home. That Klaus scared the hell out of her. She didn't kick Mikael's ass today just so he could win by ruining his son's life all over again.

Caroline wraps her hand around his, bringing it up to her lips and placing a tender kiss on his palm. Klaus turns to face her at last, his eyes finally focusing.

"He's gone, Klaus," Caroline speaks softly. "You killed him."

His gaze slides away from her, and he pulls his hand free. "And yet he's returned from the grave to torment me. Mikael is a disease, and I've been infected a long time ago. He'll never be truly gone."

"Only if you let him. You spent so much time running away from him in fear that you forget what it's like _not_ to. You still act as though he's here, but he's not, and he can't touch you. He died again today, Klaus. The Other Side is gone. There's nothing left of him anymore, not even his wretched soul. You're free."

He shakes his head stubbornly. "The scars left by my father run too deep," he grits out, his hands clenching into white-knuckled fists.

"Look at me." Caroline touches his face with both her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Listen to what I'm saying. He can't hurt you anymore. He doesn't control you."

"He can't hurt me, but he almost hurt you." Caroline's stomach tightens at the helpless look in his eyes. He looks like his entire world has collapsed around him. She hates it so much, hates _Mikael_ for having done this to him just as he was finally, _finally_ moving forward. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"I was supposed to protect you. You were meant to be safe here, in our home, with me. And yet... I'm the very thing that puts you in danger, time and time again. All I've done since the very first day is make your life miserable. I should've left you alone, should've allowed Tyler to return to Mystic Falls. I should've given you your freedom."

Caroline drops her hand from his face, drawing away, feeling a bit of a sting. "I have been scared, confused, doubtful, but I've never been sorry, Klaus,” she starts solemnly. “Not for meeting you and not for getting pregnant either. You have a lot to apologize for, but not for this. Not for... Our baby." Caroline lets the words hang between them, the expression on Klaus' face wavering, before she continues. "Do you even want this baby?"

He avoids her gaze again, and Caroline feels as the sting grows into a sharp pang, her heart lurching. "What good will I ever be to her? Just ask Marcel. I spent decades trying to make it up for how his father treated him, and what did that accomplish? I failed him. And now I'll fail her, too."

"Don't give me that crap," she fires back, her voice sharpening in an instant. Klaus looks up at her surprised at the sudden change. There was an edge to his voice that made her bristle. Like he's given up already — on her, on the baby, on himself even. Like he's resigned himself to the fact he just wasn't cut out for any of this and his life is doomed to be darkness and misery for the rest of eternity. Like Mikael was always _right_. "No. I won't take any of that. I refuse to. You're not allowed to do that now. If you were gonna pull that crap, you should've done that a long time ago. Seven months, to be more precise, when we found out I was pregnant. You had every chance to back down and you didn't. You can't wait until I'm almost popping to tell me you're done playing dad."

"I didn't -"

" _No_ ," she cuts him off, jabbing a finger at his shoulder. "Do you understand? No. I will not let you. I know all about crappy dads and I wouldn't be here anymore if I thought you were a danger to our daughter in any way. If I thought that she'd be better off not knowing you, I would've left and you'd never find us. Don't fool yourself into thinking you _made_ me stay here. The choice was always mine. I'm here because I want to be. Because I trust you. Because I refuse to give up on you, so _no_. You're not giving up on me either, and that's not a request." She shakes her head, her frayed temper not backing down as indignation flares up. "All that because _Mikael_ paid a visit?"

"Paid a visit? Caroline, he _killed_ you," he bites back.

" _I'm not dead_. He is. Why do you even care about what he has to say? He was a terrible father, and not just to you. I'm not gonna let you use him as an excuse. You're scared, Klaus, and I get that. I'm not exactly a well of serenity myself. But you don't get to sabotage this now because _I need you_. I can't do this alone. So no, you don't get to punch out."

Caroline huffs out an annoyed sigh, folding her arms across her chest, her eyes ablaze with purpose. Silence spools, sudden and uncomfortable while she waits for Klaus to react, and each second it takes him to come up with a response, Caroline feels her heart sink a little bit further, her anger slowly dissolving into fear that he's really going to panic _now_ and disappear.

Klaus' shoulders sag as though under the burden of the whole world. He's got the weight of at least a thousand years there, which is heavy enough. But this isn't just about him. It hasn't been for almost nine months ago. Caroline did not stay in New Orleans until now just to let Klaus give up.

"I would never do that, Caroline," he says, quiet but earnestly. She lets out a slow breath, though her gaze remains hard on him. "But I would've certainly been better off without Mikael. Who's to say she won't be better without me?"

"You're not your father, Klaus," she speaks in a clipped tone. "You don't have to repeat the same cycle, you just have to do better. The fact you're worried at all says everything. It's a good start. In fact, that's where everyone starts. It's what good parents do, they worry. They try to make themselves better for their kids so that their kids can be better than they are. It's not that hard. All you have to do is love her. That's it. Everything else comes naturally if you do." She pauses before adding tentatively, "Do you? Love her, I mean."

A tired half-smile tugs at his lips, his eyes softening just a tiny bit, but enough to undo the knot in her stomach. "How could I ever not love something that we have made together?"

"Well, good. Because I don't regret knowing you. We've had our... issues. And we're still working on that. You drive me _crazy_ , Klaus," she accuses mildly. "It's all I can do sometimes not to smack you on the head, like right now." Caroline falters, losing some of that fighting steam as warmth finally hums through her, bleeding into her voice. "But I'm not better off without you. And she won't be either."

She had no intention whatsoever to start a fight today of all days, only meant to comfort Klaus, to offer him whatever reassurance he needed to snap out of his anguish-driven tantrum. But she is way too tired and way too pregnant to let this pass. Mikael is a royal asshole who ruined his children for eternity and in doing so screwed up the lives of many, _many_ generations of innocents who have suffered at their hands — but she will not let a dead man ruin her life, too.

She may not have wanted to start the argument, but since she was basically coerced into it, Caroline meant to hold her ground and not back down. The scorching intensity in the look Klaus gives her then, however, utterly disarms her. All the fire bleeds out of her as he pulls her into him, desperate arms grabbing and holding her firmly as he kisses her with such need, such devotion, that she simply melts into it.

"You were dead," Klaus murmurs, his forehead resting against hers. "I thought I'd lost you."

"You didn't. And I told Mikael exactly where he could shove his hatred when I kicked his ass today," she says. "It felt really good."

Klaus lets out a soft puff of amusement. "I wish I'd seen it."

Caroline chuckles, peppering kisses along his jaw. "I think we could both use a good night of sleep," she says, pulling away from him. "I don't know about you, but I could sleep for a month. And preferably only wake up with the baby already outside." She offers him a hand, and he arches his eyebrows at her. "What? I said _sleep_. Unless you'd rather stay here in this war zone." Caroline scrunches up her nose at the mess he's made in his room. It makes her _itch_.

Klaus' eyes sparkle with mischief, but his smile is good-natured when he takes her hand.

He gets cleaned up while she slips into her pajamas — the really old, really oversized one, the only thing that still fits comfortably at his stage, the type she'd never, in a million years, consider wearing to go to bed with the guy she's into. Sexy lingerie couldn't be further away from Caroline's mind, though. At eight and a half months pregnant, all she wants is _comfort_ , first, second and third. And Klaus. That's kind of a big deal, too.

He washes off the blood and the alcohol and returns smelling of the lavender soap from her bathroom, his wet hair sticking up in odd places and curling at the bottom. Caroline thinks it's kind of unfair that he looks so ridiculously good while she's all bloated in old sweatpants, but the odd domesticity of the moment leaves her stunned for a second. Klaus out of his jeans and Henley uniform, fresh out of a shower, wearing some dark silky pants and a simple white t-shirt; her in her million-years-old unflattering pants, getting into bed together, cozying up under the covers. As though they've been doing this forever. Like life can be just this easy.

She almost wants to grab her phone and snap a picture of him now. It’s the most ordinary he’s ever looked — not ready for battle, not covered in blood; barefoot and all. And perhaps precisely because of that, she feels like she’s never been more attracted to him. More enamored.

It's certainly striking, but not in a bad way. Not at all. Caroline feels a sudden lightness as she puts her head on his chest, one of her legs snuggled between his, and hums softly in contentment. It's _impossible_ to find a good enough position to sleep in with this much baby. But with this Klaus pillow is definitely the most comfortable she's been in bed for a while.

Klaus wraps an arm around her shoulder, kissing the top of her head.

"I can't lose you, Caroline," he confesses against her hair, breathing her in as though he doesn't believe she's real, like she might vanish out of thin air.

She lifts her face just enough to kiss his neck, her hand resting on top of his heart, still beating slightly off-rhythm. "Good thing I'm not going anywhere, then."

In the gentleness of that moment, in the middle of all that reassurance, Caroline feels a thread unraveling inside of her. Like the worst is already behind them, and things are going to be fine now. Klaus is still going to be impossible and she's gonna want to slap him twice a day, but for the first time, Caroline thinks they might be ok after all.

She counts his heartbeats until the sound becomes distant, abstract, and then she falls asleep.

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Let's talk baby names. Throughout the course of this story, I've received some comments from people basically begging me not to call the baby Hope. I have a few alternative options that I like, but I'm not in love with any of them. One I like more than the others, but it was pointed out to me that there's another implication to it. Still, I'm considering everything. My question is: would you absolutely hate it if the baby was called Hope or would you prefer me to keep the name as it is? I'm not asking for name suggestions because I'm very specific about the kind of thing I have in mind (it needs to make sense within a certain context, rather than just be a pretty name), so I'm really wondering how many of you hate the idea of a baby Hope Forbes-Mikaelson. Also, don't yell at me! It's just a question, guys!
> 
> As always, please comment and review because I am seriously dying for your reactions on this chapter!
> 
>  **Edit:** So, guys, I really appreciate the investment, which is awesome, but I'm just going to reinforce that I'm not asking for suggestions on baby names. I already have an idea in my head, I'm really just running a poll on Hope vs Other names. Please, don't send suggestions, I really don't want anyone to be disappointed if I didn't pick yours.


	20. S01E20 The Battle of New Orleans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bigger shout-out than usual to [**coveredinthecolors**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/pseuds/coveredinthecolors) for her AMAZING job in the final two chapters of this story! Not just with proof-reading everything, but for taking her time to discuss all the sensitive points in both chapters that are giving me the chills. If you still find any typos or grammar mistakes here, know that they're all mine (I tend to add a lot of stuff during extra time lol).
> 
> And here we are! The journey was long and arduous, but we've arrived at the two-chapters finale of this story. I can't even believe I've managed to write all this. It's a hell of a lot of words I did not know I had in me when I first started. Thank you SO much to everyone who has been following this and for your amazing support. :) As always, must ask you to not abandon me in this crucial time! Your comments and feedback are more welcome than ever! It's truthfully the only thing keeping me motivated to still participate in fandom at this point. I'll be so looking forward to reading your thoughts after this. :)
> 
> I do feel like, at this point, I have to remind you all of one thing, though: **this is The Originals season 1**. Remember how I put all those warnings back there and kept dropping little reminders of how closely I'm following canon here? Well. I just feel like you might need to keep that in mind. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this!

* * *

 

"Emma."

"No."

"Sophia."

There's a pause. Caroline can almost feel a flurry of excitement brewing. But then, "No."

She sighs, stuffing her mouth with cereal. They've been talking baby names for an hour and so far the only thing Klaus has said is 'no' in varying degrees of objection. Some suggestions he doesn't even dignify with an answer, simply lifts his eyes from the book he's reading and gives Caroline a _look_. She has to hold back from throwing her cereal at him when he does that. They're weeks away from having a baby and not a single clue on what to call her.

"Ok," she says around a mouthful. "How about... Lena?"

"Absolutely not,” he replies with special heat, like the idea is offensive to him.

"What's wrong with Lena?"

"It's one vowel away from Elena."

"It's a beautiful name,” she protests. “And so is Elena, for that matter.”

Klaus gives her one of his pointed looks. "No daughter of mine will be named after a doppelganger."

"That's not - You know what, whatever." Lena is not really worth the argument and, well, he kind of has a point. Caroline loves Elena, but she doesn't really want to name her daughter somewhat after her. "Blake."

"That's not even a real name."

"Of course it's a real name. Blake Lively. Blake Shelton. It's been on the Top 100 names for years." It has. Caroline's checked. She's also checked every single website for the most common names in the past decade. Nothing stood out. And Klaus' determination to _not_ name the baby isn't helping at all.

"It sounds like a sports brand."

She rolls her eyes. "Zoe?"

"Now you're just making random sounds, love."

"Oh, _excuse you_. You're a billion years old, all the names you know are from the freaking Stone Age. Let’s just call her _Mary_ , why don’t we?”

He flips a page on his book. "That's a fine name."

" _It's not gonna be Mary_." She puts down her cereal, her nostrils flaring in irritation. "Why are you being so difficult?"

"I'm not being difficult, I'm merely aiming for perfection. Names are important and I know what it's like to be stuck with one you despise."

"What are you talking about? _I am Klaus Mikaelson_ ," she derides, making a terrible attempt at copying his accent and tone of voice which earns an unimpressed glance from him. "You're way too self-involved not to love the sound of your own name."

"Of the corruption of my given name, perhaps."

"Ok, _Niklaus_ ," she says, drawing it out just to annoy him. "This kid needs a name and all you do is shut down all my suggestions. I don't see you making any contributions."

He puts down his book, regarding Caroline contemplatively. "Inge."

"Inge?" Caroline parrots, eyebrows arched. "You're joking, right? That sounds like a ring tone."

"Meredith, then."

"Meredith," she deadpans.

"It's a Welsh name. Means great ruler. I think it's fitting," he grins, a single dimple denting his cheek.

"Oh yeah. It's perfect. If I was giving birth to a 75 year-old lady and her three cats, that is."

Klaus sighs. "Ambrosia."

"Oh, God," she grumbles. "I take it back, stop having ideas."

"Don't ask for my suggestions if you're going to hate all of them."

"Because they're awful!"

"May I make a suggestion?” Elijah speaks from the door, leaning against the threshold with his arms crossed and an amused smile on his face.

“Please,” Caroline says, motioning her hands in a _be my guest_ gesture. “Not like we’re getting anywhere here.”

“How about… Elia?”

Caroline's face instantly lights up, an involuntary contented sound escaping her lips. _Elia_. That's the first name that's _really_ spoken to her. It's short and cute, not too common, but not weird either. It's _per_ -

"Not a chance," Klaus shuts it down with a glare.

She snaps her face to him, gaping. "What? Why? It's perfect!"

"My daughter is not going to be named to appease my big brother's ego."

"It's not -" Caroline stops to consider it. _Elia. Elijah._ "Damn it," she breathes out, visibly deflating. "She'll be going away to college before we agree on a name. Let’s just put _X_ on her birth certificate."

"Back in the old days, parents didn't name their children until they turned at least two," Klaus says. "Child mortality rates were extremely high. What's the point of naming someone if they're just going to die?"

Caroline narrows her eyes at him. "Wow, Klaus. Thank you so much for this _incredibly_ inappropriate remark. Jesus."

"Well, I am sorry to interrupt what sounds like a very entertaining conversation -" Elijah starts.

"Please, interrupt before I punch him."

Elijah's lips hunch into a smile. "I just heard from Jackson. He and Oliver are on their way back."

Klaus stands to his feet, his attention suddenly piqued. "Do they have the stones?"

Elijah nods. "They should be here by morning."

Both brothers turn to look at her. Caroline feels a stab of adrenaline. This is it, then. Tomorrow night is a full moon, likely the last one before the baby is born, and they intend to have the moonlight rings all done before then. It'll give the wolves the power to control their transformation and, in retribution, they will help protect their still unnamed daughter.

They've had quiet days since Mikael came out of hell to play, but Caroline doesn't allow herself to put her guard down, and neither does Klaus. They still haven't managed to pinpoint who the person behind the attacks on the Bayou was and, despite Jackson's own investigations, they can't connect the bomber to Francesca Correa. If it wasn't her, and it wasn't Marcel or Genevieve, then they're truly lost. And all the more exposed for it.

Elijah thinks it could've been Diego or some other wayward vampire acting on his own, that maybe the attack wasn't directed at Caroline after all, but rather as a way to scare Klaus into pulling out of his side deal with the Crescents. If that was the intention, it failed. All it did was motivate Klaus further — not to mention convince everyone else of the urgency of getting the rings done asap.

He has used their days of peace to dig deeper, and, with Caroline's help in reading his mother's writing — _witchy gibberish_ , in his own insulting words — they concluded that the stone used to forge the ring Esther gave to Klaus' biological father was a black kyanite. It has powerful protection and healing properties, which makes it perfect to fight not only the effects of the full moon over the werewolves, but to offer them strength against vampires. It's brilliant stuff, really. Esther Mikaelson was a bit of a mad genius.

Caroline just wishes she'd had more time to prepare. Klaus would never let her have the grimoire for long, claiming that it was dangerous to leave it out in the open, after the witches had made it obvious they were trying to steal it. The spell is incredibly complex and Caroline didn't even get to read the whole thing. Esther's _gibberish_ is particularly hard to translate, it being really _old_ with a twist of _Norse_ gibberish. It was a combined effort, getting the correct translations, and not everything was exactly straightforward. Klaus is certain that she has all the important parts because it matches the daylight ring spell perfectly, but with that kind of magic, every detail counts.

Now that Jackson has located a large enough supply of the stones, it's up to her to make it all work by tomorrow night. No pressure, then.

She lets out a sharp breath, placing a hand on top of her belly. "This would be a good time to come out, baby girl. Mommy could really use a drink. Or ten."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-s

 

Klaus places his mother's spell book on the desk in front of Caroline. "There you go, love," he says. "Knock yourself out."

"You could've let me knock myself out about a week ago," she grumbles, carefully flipping through the pages until she finds the moonlight ring spell.

Klaus takes a seat on the couch, propping his feet up the center table. "You've got it all sorted."

"Who's the witch here again?" she snaps, glaring at him, before going back to reading through the spell.

Klaus smiles, amused. Caroline has been on edge lately, obsessing about absolutely everything. The closer they get to her due date, the antsier she becomes. She is a planner, a perfectionist, not unlike himself, and the fact there is still so much up in the air bothers her to no end. Although... Klaus doubts she would ever _not_ over-fixate. It's in her nature to always want to be in control, and there's no way she can predict what the whole process of giving birth will be like, starting with when it'll happen. It could be in a week if the child's hasty, or in a month if she's stubborn.

Truth be told, nothing about this situation makes Klaus feel very comfortable himself, but this is probably the one area where his expertise is zero. He never thought there would come a day when it would be useful to understand the principles of childbirth. He wishes he could offer her more support, but alas, this is one of those extremely rare occasion where he'd rather just admit he doesn't have the slightest clue.

What he can do, however, is work on the werewolf alliance. It's of utmost importance that they have this sorted before the baby is born, and it is highly unlikely that they'll have another full moon after the one tomorrow night before the child is here. He’d be far more reassured knowing that his daughter will have an army ready to protect her. She's royalty to the wolves, and they'll owe a debt to Klaus if he frees them from their curse. Something tells Klaus that the threats to his child’s life while she's still in her mother's womb will only intensify once she's born, and at least on that point he and Caroline are on the exact same page. She wants to get this done as much as he does, for the same reasons, with the added bonus that she actually personally cares about Jackson Kenner and his lot.

After the bombs, Caroline feels indebted to them, as though she were responsible for the attacks, even though they’ve reached a dead end on every investigation branch so far — meaning they have many theories, but no conclusive answer as to why the attacks happened and who orchestrated them. No amount of convincing is enough to alleviate Caroline’s guilt, though, and after getting repeatedly snapped at and side-eyed, he's stopped trying. If what will make her feel better is getting these rings done so her friends will have means to defend themselves against those who wish to harm them... So be it.

"Your mother's spell is as complicated as it is elegant," she muses absentmindedly, talking to herself more than to him, her eyes carefully roaming through every line on the ten pages the spell occupies on the grimoire. Esther was nothing if not thorough. "Groundbreaking."

"Becoming a fan, love?"

"I don't have to like the artist to admire their work. She used her powers for all the wrong reasons, but she was a very gifted witch. The things that tie the magic to the ring... There are many steps, but it's _so_ clever."

"Yes, well," he replies, not interested in singing praise to the Original witch. "Do we have everything we need?"

"I think so. She linked the protection magic to black kyanite stones, channeling the power of the full moon when it reaches its apex, plus a binding agent."

"What binding agent?"

"The blood of a werewolf that doesn't turn on the full moon." Caroline pauses, her lashes fluttering as she looks up at him again.

Klaus's eyebrows knit together. "You didn't mention that before."

"It's because I knew you'd freak out. But there's really no need to. Because of the baby, I can use -"

"Absolutely not," he jabs, resolutely.

"It's just a little bit -"

"We're not using my child's blood to bind a spell we've never done before, Caroline."

"Well, then we'll have to rush to the Bayou and -"

"We'll use mine," he says. "I don't turn on full moons."

Caroline's face creases with a thought, and she looks down again at the spell, flipping through a few pages forward. Something's bothering her.

"What is it?" he asks.

"I don't know... I hadn't thought about using your blood because you're a hybrid. It makes sense, but... I'm sensing there's something here that's escaping me. Like a catch. Some hidden underline I'm missing."

"You've been through those pages countless times, Caroline. If there was anything, you would've known."

"No, I was allowed to peek at bits of this at a time, and spells don't work like that. It's a _whole_ , you have to understand how the entire thing is connected -"

"You're obsessing, sweetheart."

"Stop using that condescending tone on me," she bites, swelling in irritation. "I'm not obsessing, I'm being careful. This is old, powerful magic. You should show more respect."

Klaus swallows back a snarky retort and allows her to concentrate on her reading. It's the hormones, he tells himself. Ever since Caroline came back home, Klaus has been extra careful not to get her too riled up, but it seems at this stage almost anything is enough to annoy her. He can't really say he understands the physical changes she's going through, but he'd probably be in a terrible mood if he had something growing inside of him for nine months as well. If this spell is her way of channeling her frustrations, then -

"Shit."

He blinks at the distressed tone of her voice, sitting up straight. "What is it?"

"The pages were glued."

"What?"

" _These freaking pages were glued!_ " she snaps, exasperated, carefully pulling two pages apart. "You didn't see this?"

"No."

She curses under her breath, smoothing down the previously glued pages, her eyes frantically running over his mother's writings. "Oh, _fuck_."

Klaus stands to his feet, worry finally starting to bite at him. "What’s the matter?"

"I can't make this spell."

"What are you talking about?"

"It says here it requires an unadulterated, unclouded, pure magical connection to the celestial event in order for the spell to work."

"And what's the problem?"

"Don’t you see what this is? I _knew_ there was a reason I was getting some _vibes_ from this spell about using hybrid blood, but it’s worse than that. You mother added a fail-safe mechanism. Against hybrids _performing_ the spell."

Klaus' placid look morphs into a scowl. "Of course she has," he grunts. "She was a witch, carrying the child of a werewolf."

"And so am I. She must've realized _she_ couldn't perform the spell while she was pregnant with you and decided not to find a way around it, in case her half-witch, half-werewolf child ever decided to start making more of these rings. Right now, my blood is... Everything at once. It won't work if it's me." Caroline lets out a disgruntled sound, slamming her fisted hands down on the desk in frustration. " _Damn it_! See?! This is why you should've let me study this sooner. We have a very small window to perform the spell. If I'd known this, I could've figured something out. _Damn it, damn it!_ "

Klaus feels a stab of anger. First it was his father, now his mother hounding him, ruining his plans from beyond the grave. Caroline is right. This is his fault. He should've known better than to trust that old witch, even if she's dead.

But not all is lost yet.

"I know someone who can help us," he offers tentatively.

Caroline peers at him questioningly, but her eyes flash as she swiftly understands who he's talking about. He can hear her teeth snapping together. "You have _got_ to be kidding me," she grits out.

"Caroline, listen," he drawls calmly.

"Listen?" She pushes up from her seat, her nostrils flaring. "Seriously? You want to call your _girlfriend_?"

"First of all, stop calling her that. And second, she's a pure, powerful witch, and one that can be persuaded."

"Oh, sure! What are you gonna offer her now? A romantic weekend getaway?"

Klaus glares at her. "Caroline -"

"I don't trust her, Klaus. And I don't understand how you do. We still don't know who plotted the attack on the werewolves."

"It wasn't Genevieve."

"How do you know? Because she said so? It's really sweet that you're willing to believe her so blindly," she bites out sourly.

"It's not blindly - Caroline, please! My involvement with Genevieve had nothing to do with feelings or trust, and everything to do with personal gain. I _don't_ trust her, I never did. But I wanted something from her, and she wanted something from me. And I still have the means to taunt her — _not_ with the promise of romance, but with what she was trying to steal."

Caroline huffs out in disbelief. "You want to give her your mother's grimoire? That’s an even _worse_ idea than a date. The kind of magic in this thing, into the hands of that coven -"

"Not _give_. But I would be so inclined to let her peruse through it, perhaps, for a limited time, if she were to perform the spell for us. There has to be something specific she was after, if she was so certain that she’d find it there. A spell for a spell. Sounds like a fine deal to me."

Caroline crosses her arms over her chest, her exasperation clearly growing. "Those witches have made my life hell since they brought me here. They've tried to kill our baby. The werewolves were the ones who stopped them from doing it. Why would she possibly want to empower them, when they know on whose side the wolves will be?"

"Because she's desperate, and she won't get another chance."

Her eyes slide away, to a point behind him. "What do _you_ think?" she asks, and Klaus realizes Elijah has been standing there.

"I don't trust Genevieve," his brother says, walking into the room. _Brilliant_ , he thinks. Just what he needed right now, Elijah's sanctimonious words of wisdom as he's trying to convince Caroline. "However," he continues. "She did save your life. And unless we're willing to postpone this for at least a month, I don't see another option."

Klaus blinks at Elijah, surprised. He did not expect to get his support on this.

“So you agree with this?” Caroline scoffs. “And they call you the _reasonable_ one.”

“I agree with all your reservations, Caroline, and under different circumstances, I would be completely against this nonsense,” Elijah starts, glancing at Klaus for support. “But our hands are tied. It’s either that… Or giving up.”

She shakes her head, indignation flaring in her eyes. "I don't like this.”

"Neither do I, but I'm out of ideas," Klaus retorts. "If either of you have a better one, by all means."

"When she realizes that all you've wanted from her, all this time, was for her to help you create the rings that are going to give you an army -"

"I told you already, Caroline, she was using me right back."

"Maybe in the beginning, but she went beyond the business boundaries and you know that. Don't underestimate a brokenhearted woman, Klaus. Especially one with as much power and as much bitterness as Genevieve."

Klaus stalks towards her, placing both hands on her shoulders and looking her straight in the eyes; hers are hard as gems. "Don't worry, love. The three of us will have it all under control."

Caroline lets out a sharp exhale, her shoulders dropping in resignation. "For the sake of - well, everyone… I hope you're both right."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"Caroline, you need to sit down," Elijah says as she starts pacing for the millionth time. It's driving him out of his mind. "You really have to calm yourself."

"Calm myself?" she snaps. "How the hell am I supposed to calm myself? No one's heard from Jackson since last night. Two grown ass werewolves don't just vanish out of thin air like this. They were on their way here and now they're gone. So don't tell me to _calm the fuck down_."

Elijah sighs, fishing his phone out of his pocket to call Niklaus.

They've been trying to contact the two werewolves who were supposed to bring the black kyanite stones all morning, but their phones are going straight to voicemail. Caroline reached out to some of her friends in the Bayou, and they've had no better success. Their alpha was meant to have checked in hours ago, but there's been no sign of him or his diminutive sidekick, Oliver. When Caroline's locator spells failed to provide even an approximate location, they had confirmation that something had gone terribly wrong. She has been losing her mind ever since.

Klaus left to speak to some of his minions spread across town and see if they had any news, but that was over an hour ago and he still hasn't called back.

Elijah fully understands Caroline's concern, but seeing her this anxious is making _him_ distressed, and he cannot afford to lose his poise in a moment of crisis such as this. Someone needs to keep their wits.

One more minute of this insane pacing and he's going to physically restrain her.

"Yes, brother. What is it?" Klaus answers his phone rather calmly.

Caroline stops in front of him, lips pressed into a tight line, tapping her foot nervously.

"No words on our wolves yet?"

"No yet. They seem to have gone astray."

"I have a very concerned pregnant woman here," Elijah says, raising his eyebrows at Caroline.

"They should've been back _hours_ ago," Caroline grunts.

"I can hear it," Klaus speaks around a sigh on the other end.

"We need to find them."

"Well, that might be a bit tricky," Klaus starts. "We've located their car on a backroad in the middle of nowhere, but no sign of the werewolves or the stones. I suspect they've been shanghaied."

"And you didn't feel the need to share this information?"

"What information?" Caroline demands. Elijah signals for her to wait and she lets out a disgruntled breath.

"It was my intention to present you with a problem only after I'd found an appropriate solution," Klaus explains, still way too composed for someone who just lost track of his most valuable allies. It's not like him to take something like this so coolly.

"Well, do enlighten us."

"I'm closing in on it as we speak. The only person who would be bold enough to snatch my wolf allies is the one who has the most to lose."

"Marcel."

Caroline's eyes widen in horror. "No. He'll kill them."

"Genevieve assures me that Marcel has procured a cloaking spell." _Ah_ , Elijah thinks. That explains why Caroline couldn't find them. "The only witch who would aid Marcel is Davina. I just need to get one last bit of leverage before I pay her a visit."

"Niklaus," Elijah admonishes. "You do recall how that ended last time, don't you?"

"Don't worry, brother. It'll be fine. I won't make the same mistake twice. I have to go now. Young Joshua has just arrived."

Elijah puts his phone down and immediately he can feel Caroline bristling in front of him. "What?" she demands. "What is he doing?"

"Trying to get Davina's cooperation."

"Oh, Jesus. Don't tell me he's going to -"

"Honestly, Caroline. I would love to berate my brother for his less than friendly approach to problem solutions, but unfortunately we simply don't have the time to teach Niklaus manners. And like it or not, his temper might come in handy. If Marcel has the wolves..." Elijah leaves it at that. There's no need to add what Marcellus would like to do to the Crescent's alpha. He's eliminated more than one wolf clan over the years, and will certainly have no qualms with doing it again if he thinks they're a threat.

He can see the internal struggle in Caroline's eyes, though. She wants to do things the right, moral way, without threatening the innocent bystanders, and Elijah can agree with her. Sometimes. But Caroline will have to undress herself of certain beliefs if she is to make a life for herself and her daughter in New Orleans. As Elijah has learned the hard way himself, the people of this city will always think of their own interests before anyone else's, and if there's a way for them to profit, even if it means trampling over whoever stands in their way, they'll do it. Mystic Falls, with all its supernatural fanfare, is nothing compared to New Orleans. This city will eat you up if you dare to stay innocent in face of its viciousness.

She finally sits, slumping down on the couch and burying her face in her hands. "I hate this," she groans, her voice muffled. “I hate this _so much_.”

Elijah sits next to her, gently stroking her back. He is in no way an expert on the subject, but common sense tells him no heavily pregnant woman should endure this amount of stress. "Don't we all?"

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

First Klaus went out to investigate the mysterious disappearances of Jackson and Oliver. Then, about an hour ago, he called and Elijah went to meet him. Apparently he got word that the two of them were taken to the docks by Marcel. Caroline didn't ask _how_ Klaus got that information. She suspects it might have been through torturing someone in order to get Davina to fess up. At least for now, she'd rather not worry about it. Elijah was right; they're on a clock here and Jackson's life is in real danger. Even if Klaus did something atrocious, it's not like there's anything she can do about it, anyway. She's got enough on her plate as it is. Like the unsolicited visitor that arrived at the compound.

Just to brighten up her day, Genevieve has come to _keep her company_.

It was apparently very easy for Klaus to convince her to help with the spell - which, Caroline pointed out, seemed awfully suspicious. "I know," Klaus said. At the very least he seemed just as bothered and cautious as she was. But, once more, they did not have enough time to dig deeper into Genevieve's possible motivations. For the sake of her mental health, Caroline will believe that all the witch wants is to get back into Klaus' pants. As inconvenient as it might be, it's a lesser issue compared to the alternatives.

Still, being left at home while the two of them are out there on a possible suicide mission, trying to rescue Jackson from the hands of someone who wants him very much dead, with no news on what's going on and _Genevieve_ as her sole companion, is very close to Caroline's idea of hell.

Her nerves have been all over the place since Elijah left; she’s gone right back to pacing around.

"Klaus should've called by now," she mutters, talking to herself more than anything and shaking her head against all the awful scenarios crossing her mind.

"You know, worrying isn't going to help", Genevieve offers. "You should sit down. Try to keep calm."

Caroline glares, swallowing back more than a few non-flattering expletives. She promised herself that she would bite her tongue in front of Genevieve and so far she's been successful, but that means her temper is flaring hot. Hearing that kind of condescending remark from Klaus and Elijah is annoying enough, but Caroline can at least believe that they mean well; but from that… _woman_? _Nu-uhn._

"What are you now? Zen life coach?" she grumbles, trying — and failing — not to let irritation seep into her voice.

Genevieve's lips curl into a wan smile. "The treatment for pregnant women has advanced remarkably since I was a nurse, but even I know high blood pressure is bad for you and your baby, especially now that you're so close to term."

Caroline huffs out a displeased breath, but decides not to be unreasonable. Whatever her personal feelings for Genevieve, she isn't wrong. Caroline has been up and down this house like a mad person all day. The last thing she needs is to start having episodes like the one she had when Klaus snapped and tried to kill his entire family. She might not be so lucky the second time around.

She sits down, wringing her hands to keep from biting on her nails. "I hate this. I feel completely useless."

"Don't you get it? You're the point of all this. Klaus and Elijah running all over town... It's all for you," Genevieve says, a wistful tune beneath her words. "I'm a bit envious."

Caroline gives her a hard look, feeling not even a tiny bit sympathetic. "Great. Lucky me," she mutters with grim irony.

"Is there anything I can get you?"

 _Yes, you can leave me the fuck alone._ "How about some moonlight rings?"

Genevieve takes a seat next to her. "It’ll be done. We need to wait for the full moon to reach its apex. And I'm sure the stones will be here soon enough. Have a little faith."

Caroline clenches her jaw, staring at the other woman. She can feel her mood fraying by the second. The more polite and affable Genevieve sounds, the more distrustful she grows. Right now, she'd take high school-level pettiness over this excessive congeniality.

Before she can set the witch on fire with her eyes alone, Caroline stands up and marches out of the room. She's gonna call Klaus and Elijah again, and they better answer the freaking phone now or she'll lose it.

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When they arrive at the docks, Marcel and his buffoons are long gone. But he did leave them a werewolf behind. Just the one, though.

Klaus pulls the hood covering Jackson's head, and the wolf lets out a loud, painful groan, scrunching his eyes shut against the sudden brightness. Marcel really roughed him up. He's got bruises and cuts all over his face, his hands and feet tied up to a chair. Must have been injected with a large dose of wolfsbane as well.

Klaus holds Jackson's face with his hands none too gently, inspecting the wounds. Nasty, but he'll live.

"Accolades to Marcel. He did quite a dance across the bridge of your nose. Where is he now?" he asks, letting go of Jackson.

The werewolf looks down at his feet, and Klaus follows his gaze. There are what seem to be detonators connected to the chair and red wires leading to a bunch of crates spread across the warehouse. Klaus can bet he knows what lies inside those.

"Nowhere to be found..." Elijah mutters as he moves to inspect the content of the containers. His brother pulls open one of the crates, revealing just what Klaus suspected: explosives. "Although he did leave us a delightful parting gift."

"What about the stones?" he turns back to Jackson.

"I don't know. Untie me and I'll help you find them."

"Sit still," Elijah commands. "You'll be freed as soon as it's safe."

His brother is not wrong. A sudden movement from Jackson and this entire building will go up in the air — he confirms it as he blows the lid off another crate to find it filled with more C4. Klaus just doesn't think he particularly cares that much about what will be left of the Crescent alpha. "Our focus should be the stones," he says. "Considering Jackson here is competition for Caroline's affection, I think you'd agree."

"Disregard my brother," Elijah says to a gaping Jackson while he inspects the way the explosives were tied to the chair. "Over the course of the last millennium, his capacity for tact is somewhat diminished."

"Oh, that's typical, isn't it? Marcel fills a room with dynamite and yet I am the tactless one. I recognize these explosives from the attack on the Bayou, by the way. Could you remind me again why you believed that Marcel was innocent?"

"Well, remind me to ask him before I pull out his innards the next time we see him."

Klaus pulls another crate open. Yet more explosives. Marcel was not joking around. "Ok. Exercise extreme caution in this general area. Bit of a mess," he says, motioning his hands vaguely towards that side of the warehouse, where crates and more crates have been haphazardly piled up.

Elijah's phone goes off. "Impeccable timing," his brother mutters before taking the call.

Klaus knows it's Caroline even before he hears her exasperated voice on the other side.

"Finally! What the hell is going on? Why isn't your brother answering his freaking phone?"

Elijah cocks his eyebrows at Klaus, who merely rolls his eyes. "I must've left it in the car."

"He's here," Elijah says, calmly. "He's fine. So is Jackson, but he's a little... Tied up right now. Can we call you back?"

Klaus laughs at Elijah's floridness, going back to inspecting the crates. There's slight chance Marcel left the stones in one of those, but he needs to make sure. If Klaus wanted someone to blow themselves up, he would definitely leave the stones behind, just for the irony of it. Then again, not everyone is an enthusiast of his particular brand of humor. Still, he needs to be certain. In the next crate, he finds a little piece of paper. But just as he picks it up, one of the little blinking lights on the detonators goes from red to green.

"Oh, that doesn't bode well..."

"Are you trying to kill us?!" Jackson yells.

"Elijah, tell me what's going on, now!" Caroline's shrill voice demands.

Klaus unfolds the paper. _This is for Thierry_ , it says. Elijah killed Marcel's former right-hand man after the disaster at the witches' feast, when Marcel orchestrated an attack that ended up leaving dozens of dead bodies behind. Klaus fails to see how this is the equivalent of that, though; Marcel should count himself lucky he made it out of that alive at all. Caroline very nearly got caught up in the chaos that night; if that had been the case, Thierry would’ve been the least of his concerns.

Klaus looks at his brother, who turns to the still tied up Jackson.

Well, now would probably be a good time to vacate the premises.

Another second later, the whole thing goes up in the air.

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Klaus half expects Caroline to assault him when they finally make it back to the compound, and by the look on her face when she sees him, he prepares for her fist to connect to his jaw when she strides across the room in his direction. He is genuinely surprised when, instead, she wraps her arms around him and pulls him into a tight embrace.

"Thank God, you're alive," she breathes out. Klaus relaxes into the embrace, placing a kiss on the side of her head. Her heart is pounding in her chest, poor thing.

"It takes more than a little bomb to put me down, love.”

"What did I say about not getting yourself blown up?" She pulls away, her forehead creased in fiery indignation.

"Well, I would rather not get blown up myself, but unfortunately it was out of my hands."

She opens her mouth to retort, but then Elijah comes in, half-carrying Jackson. They managed to pull him out in the nick of time, but his rescue was not exactly gentle. He and Elijah got the worst of the explosion, and the landing was perhaps a bit too rough for an intoxicated werewolf in his human form.

"Oh my God," Caroline utters in shock, leaving him to go to Jackson's aid. "Jack," she says, her voice brimming with affection, giving him a warm embrace as well. Klaus gives Elijah a pointed look as though saying _See?_ , while his brother merely shakes his head. _That_ is why he wouldn't have bothered leaving the wolf behind at the warehouse. Then again, Klaus doubts Caroline would've forgiven them if they hadn't saved her friend. The choices he makes for the sake of others...

Caroline helps Jackson to the couch, sitting down next to him and taking a close — _too_ close, in Klaus’ opinion — look at the injuries on his face. "Are you ok?" she asks.

"I'll live."

"Oliver?"

"He's safe. I pleaded with Marcel to let him go and take only me."

Klaus rolls his eyes at Jackson’s heroics, obviously trying to impress Caroline — and by the sympathetic look she gives him, it works. So typical. "What about the stones?" she asks.

"Scattered across the bed of the Mississippi, I imagine," Elijah says.

"Marcel is no fool," Klaus adds. "He knows an empowered werewolf army would mean the end of vampires' reign in New Orleans. The explosion is his way of saying he means to prevent that, for all the good it will do to him."

"Well, it did him pretty damn well," Caroline counters.

"This is my fault," Jackson grunts, his voice only a notch above a plaintive moan. "I will find a way to fix it."

"No, Jack. You're hurt," Caroline says, her voice pitched soft. "No one's blaming you."

"I'm blaming you," Klaus retorts. She glares at him, scrunching her mouth into a disapproving pout. He shrugs. "These stones are rare. They'll be hard to replace. Fortunately," he pauses, smirking at Elijah. "I always have a backup plan."

 

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Caroline huffs out a breath in frustration, regarding their visitors with palpable suspicion, not bothering to conceal her loathing. She looks tense, almost defensive, as though ready to attack. Once more, Elijah gets her grievance, but Niklaus does have a point, for a change. Which is not to say he's entirely on board with inviting Francesca Correa to their table.

The woman hasn't left a very good impression on Elijah, however moderate and rational her direct contributions may have been so far. There's something rather sketchy about her behavior, which he supposes comes with her line of business. Still, Elijah is not a fan of the slippery sort. Especially the type that doesn't seem afraid of creatures that could literally eat her and her entire family for dinner. As much as Elijah can admire those who are brave enough to face their fears, that does seem to be the case with Francesca. Her boldness edges on disrespect. It does not bode well for her.

"Greetings, Ms. Correa," Niklaus says as he flies down the stairs, Caroline and Elijah lagging a little behind him. "I see you've brought company."

"These are my brothers," she says, motioning towards five equally dodgy-looking men standing behind her. "I always include them in delicate business matters. Fellas, meet Mr. Mikaelson."

"Please, call me Klaus. All my friends do."

Caroline rolls her eyes into her skull, leaning her head back and making an _aaaaaaaargh_ sound in her throat, which earns her strange looks from the Correa clan and a glare from Niklaus. Elijah grins; he thought it punctuated the moment perfectly.

"I don't know if I'd call us friends." Francesca fixes her eyes on Caroline as she speaks. "But if you and Marcel are planning on having a little throwdown, I'd prefer my family to be on the same side as the inevitable victor."

Francesca turns to one of her brothers, who carries a metallic briefcase. He opens it for her and she retrieves a small, delicate velvet bag from inside. "Not enough for an army at such short notice," she states, handing the bag over to Klaus. "But it's a start."

"Strange," Elijah muses, coming forward. "I wasn't aware that she was familiar with our plan."

He turns to Klaus with a questioning look, but it's Francesca who offers an explanation. "My price for doing business is full disclosure. Your brother complied."

Klaus opens the bag, inspecting the pieces inside with a satisfied half-smirk on his face. Elijah wonders how long it's been since he got in touch with the Correas about the stones. If he knew he could get them from her, he can't have called her last minute. As always, Klaus goes his own way, doing his own side-dealings while leaving everyone else in the dark. He supposes they should be grateful that he at least tried to stick to plan A for as long as it was possible this time around.

"How does the human faction expect to benefit from all this?" Elijah questions.

"I only want to solidify our allegiance to the ruling class. It's good for business," Francesca says.

"If only everyone shared your capacity for reason," Niklaus drawls.

"Sadly, they don't. Marcel is being especially vindictive. I'm worried he might come after me or my family just for meeting with you. It might be in our best interests if we combine our efforts."

"So be it. The more bodies we have to defend the compound, the better," Klaus says, looking at Caroline, who is not, by any means, happy about this.

What started as a secret forging of rings for the werewolves has evolved into a full-out declaration of war. Marcel and his men are now aware of what they aim to do, which has, in turn, forced their hand. If they don't get to the Crescents tonight, they'll be incredibly vulnerable to attacks from the vampires for at least an entire month, and it's unlikely that Marcel will go easier on them by the next full moon. The pack will be slaughtered. And in the middle of all that, his brother's baby will be born.

How did this get so out of hand, so fast?

 

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Caroline didn't want to stay to discuss battle plans with the Correa clan. It's bad enough that Genevieve is in the house; tolerating both her _and_ Francesca is too much. She's way too hormonal to disguise her antipathy for both of them. So while Klaus and Elijah sat with their newly recruited skeevy allies, she retreated back to the second floor, where Jackson was still trying to recover. He always feels weaker right before a full moon and Marcel shot him with an extra powerful dose of wolfsbane to keep him supple, so his wounds, which were pretty rough to begin with, are taking forever to heal.

She takes a shirt from Klaus' closet so he can shed his ruined one and helps him patch up his arm. There's a large gash there and he bumped it pretty badly when Elijah pulled him out of the building. He makes a face while Caroline ties the gauze around it, as gently as she can, but doesn't complain. When she's done, she holds his arm still, putting her hand on top of it and chanting a few quick words.

"What is that?" he asks.

"Just something to take off the pain," she explains, interrupting it quickly. He immediately stretches out his arm more comfortably when she's done. "Don't put too much strain on it. I just disguised the soreness, the injury is still healing."

"Thanks." He puts his arm into the shirt's sleeve, doing up the buttons.

"Don't thank me," Caroline says, taking a step back. "It was Klaus and Elijah who vamped you out of that building."

"They seem to really care about you."

"Yeah, well. It's... Complicated."

Jackson snorts, a tired smile curving his mouth. "That's the understatement of the year. Look. I gotta go, get back to the Bayou before the moon rises."

Caroline nods. "This will be the last time, Jack. I promise."

"You know..." he starts, holding her gaze. "Klaus isn't doing this out of the kindness of his heart. He's doing it for you, Caroline. You really are the one who'll change everything, for all of us."

Caroline awards him with a diffident smile because she knows he means well, but that kind of thing does not amount to make her feel comfortable at all. The truth is she has no idea what she's doing here, has been moving along as the tide carries her, just trying to do her best, and often feeling like she's failing. Jackson has been through so much already, and he's been an amazing leader to his pack, keeping his people together through revolutions and tragedy. That he would put that kind of faith in her, a newcomer who's not even a werewolf herself, is as flattering as it is terrifying. The Crescents' situation has considerably improved since she first arrived in New Orleans, but they're still so vulnerable... Jackson has been nothing but kind towards her, and she would hate to disappoint him.

Just as he whirls around to leave, Klaus comes in. Jack stops, the two of them staring each other down with barely veiled hostility. "Seems I owe you yet again," Jackson concedes reluctantly. “Thanks for the shirt,” he adds, brushing by Klaus and walking out of the room.

Klaus turns to her with arched eyebrows. "You let him steal one of my shirts?"

"He didn't _steal_ anything, I gave it to him. His was ruined. And he let you borrow one of his, remember?"

Klaus scoffs. "Please… He let me borrow one of those filthy flannel things he wears. _That_ probably costs more than everything he owns."

"Oh, God..." Caroline, grunts, shaking her head reprovingly. "And people think you and Elijah have nothing in common. The snobbish ego-trip, _ugh_... You're more alike than you think. And I do not mean that in a good way."

He shrugs, pouring himself a generous dose of scotch. "The good taste gene is likely the one thing we share."

Caroline crosses her arms as she watches him. "Do you really think it's the time for that?"

"Takes the edge off," he replies flatly, sipping from his glass.

"We're gonna have to talk about your drinking problem -”

“I don’t have a drinking problem.”

“ - and how much booze you have scattered around every room in this house once the baby is born. You keep alcohol in the bathroom, Klaus.”

He shrugs. “Well, you never know.”

Caroline rolls her eyes at him, shaking her head. “Anyway. Baby-proofing is a thing."

"Until then," he says, lifting his glass towards her in a mock toast. "Charming fella, this Jackson."

"He's a good guy. I trust him. And so should you."

Klaus purses his mouth, looking down at his glass. "You two seem to have a very affectionate relationship."

Caroline arches her eyebrows. "Really? You wanna talk about that? _Now_?"

"Not particularly, but I can't help but feel there's yet another rival on the field. One with a heart of gold and a far less complicated history," he bemoans, coaxing a tired sigh out of Caroline.

She walks up to him, prying the glass from his fingers as she stares right into the storm in his blue eyes. Almost nine months since Mystic Falls and the magnetism there still feels just as inescapable. It used to spook her, the intensity of his gaze, how easily he could see past her walls, tempting uncomfortable truths to the surface that she would rather deny. Now she just makes herself wide open to him, invites him into her soul. _Can't you see?_ , she wants to scream. _Can't you see I love you?_

She touches the side of his neck, her fingers grazing the stubbled skin on his jawline, and smiles. "What am I gonna do with you?"

A dimple cuts into one of his cheeks. "I could offer a few ideas."

"Shut up." Caroline's hand slides to the nape of his neck, and she pulls him in, mashing their lips together. It starts as a slow, languorous kiss, his tongue dancing demurely with her own, but because Klaus is Klaus, he immediately takes over, tilting his head to the side for better access and ravaging her mouth. Caroline yields easily, relaxing into the reassurance of his arms. For just a moment there, she can pretend that the world is not ending right down in their courtyard.

She doesn't know how long they stay like that; it feels like forever, but it's not nearly long enough. He draws back from her, peppering gentle kisses on her cheek, her eyelid and her forehead.

"When tonight is over, you and I are gonna have a conversation," she murmurs. "And you better be prepared to be honest about certain things."

She feels his mouth slanting into a smile against her skin. "Something to look forward to."

"We just need to make sure we make it through this evening," she speaks around a sigh. As she pulls slightly away, the magic of their moment dispels, and Caroline gets that nerve-jangling sensation uncurling in her belly again. "How much do you trust Francesca?"

"Not at all." Klaus puts a finger under her chin, forcing her to level his look. "But we don't have to trust her. She's delivered on the stones. It's all we need from her. Whatever obscure reasons she may carry behind her bout of camaraderie, we'll deal with it some other time. Now that Marcel knows of our plan, we no longer have a choice. We either get the rings done tonight, or the wolves will be more vulnerable than ever. Marcel has wiped out entire werewolf clans before, the Crescents can say they had it easy compared to what happened to some of the others. He won't hesitate to do it again. We won't have until the next full moon to give it another shot, and knowing that you'll be the witch behind it will put a target on your back as well. Not to mention -"

"The baby," she completes for him.

"Yes. So we either go ahead, or we put a full stop to the plan and the Crescents will be fighting for their lives for the next month."

Caroline looks away from him, down, her stomach churning at the awfulness of their choices. Eve’s face flares in her mind — calm, pale and dead. It brings an acrid tang to her mouth and a familiar heaviness to her chest.

“Caroline,” Klaus croons gently, waiting until she looks up again. “If you don’t want to do this, now’s the time to say it. We’ll pack our bags and be gone from the French Quarter before morning.”

“What about the werewolves?”

“There isn’t much to be done there. It’ll be up to Jackson to take care of his people. Preferably get them all as far away from here as possible for the time being. If he’s as good a leader as you think, he’ll find a way.”

Caroline expels an exasperated breath. That’s not an option. There are way too many people out there, people who recently lost everything in the explosions. The camp had barely recovered from that. It’s impossible to get them all out, and even if they could, conditions would be terrible. There’s only one choice here. "No. You're right, we have to take this forward. I just... Don't like any of this."

"No one does, love. But they have come at us. Now it's time to fight back."

"Isn't it always?"

Klaus presses his mouth against hers. "I have to go check that the witch downstairs has everything ready to start."

Caroline rubs her own arms to try and dispel the cold that settles into her bones when Klaus steps away. She calls him back right before he leaves, and he whirls around, all the softness gone from his face, his expression now set to determination. "Be careful," she urges.

Klaus flashes his dimples at her with a smug smirk. "They're the ones who should be careful, sweetheart."

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Klaus has a bit of a lift in his step as he walks out of the room and down to the first floor, but the second he sets eyes on Genevieve, all the glee dissolves into sourness. He shares every bit of Caroline's discomfort with having to depend upon the good will of the likes of her and Francesca Correa, but they've come too far to turn back now. They can either get the rings and solidify their alliance with the werewolves, or they might as well give up entirely, pack their bags and leave New Orleans for good. Who knows, the witches and the humans might yet surprise everyone and prove their worth by the end of the night. And they should, if they have any idea who they’re dealing with here.

"Are you all set to start?" he enquiries curtly.

"The last ingredient is personal," Genevieve says. "I need the blood of a werewolf that doesn't turn on a full moon. Since Caroline is carrying a baby werewolf -"

"Out of question. I'd just as soon limit the mother of my unborn child to the side effects of your witchery," he says, striding over to her. A muscle twitches on Genevieve's jaw, but her haughty expression never wavers. "I am half wolf. I control my form. Use me."

Klaus stretches his arm out in front of her. Genevieve falters but for a second before taking her dagger. Before she can slice him open, however, Klaus wraps his fingers tightly around her wrist, staring her down. "If you fail to uphold your end of the deal, the consequences for you will be apocalyptic," he warns in a deceptively calm intonation.

Genevieve' lips curl into a distasteful grin as she pulls her hand free. "You say the most romantic things."

She touches the dagger to the palm of his hand, slicing open a cut with spite. It stings, but Klaus merely smirks, clenching his hand into a fist and letting his blood drip over the stones, spread across a circle of rock salt on his dinner table.

He feels a shift in the air, like the pull of a magnetic field. "Very well," Genevieve announces. "It's time."

She stretches her hands out over the stones, shuts her eyes and gets to chanting. Caroline and Elijah enter the room, their foreheads creased with the same kind of concern.

Klaus walks over to Caroline, but her eyes never leave the other witch. "Is it working?" he asks.

"Something is certainly happening," she replies, thoughtfully. "But we won't know what until she's done."

Caroline barely blinks as she watches Genevieve work, her eyes moving frantically from the witch to the stones, almost as though she's seeing something that they cannot. As though, to her, magic is palpable, visible energy.

Their concentration is broken by Francesca Correa. "My people say Marcel is on the move," she warns. "And he's bringing friends."

This is it, then. Klaus exchanges an aggravated look with Elijah as a heavy atmosphere settles about the room. Time to suit up for battle. The great reckoning he and Marcel have been postponing for months is finally upon them.

Klaus is not at all afraid for himself. He can handle Marcel's entire army of miscreant street rats while blindfolded. But he knows exactly what they'll be going after in order to slow him down, the only leverage they could ever have against Klaus.

"Get Caroline to safety," he tells his brother before whirling around to face the vampires, a spark of anticipation flaring up inside him.

He's been far too lenient with Marcel. If he'd punished him as he deserved after his and Rebekah's betrayal was revealed, none of this would be happening. The attack on the Bayou would've never happened, the wolves wouldn't have been kidnapped and they'd be having a far smoother evening.

Well, no more. Tonight, his old friend will finally regret ever having challenged his maker.

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Caroline watches Klaus leave with her heart hung heavy with an ill-defined dread.

She's never been much of a psychic. Not like Bonnie, who could foresee things even before she knew about her powers. Or that backstabbing bitch Sabine — or Celeste, or whoever she was — spreading word of apocalyptic dreams about her child. But every witch has some clairvoyant energy in them, and Caroline's afraid this persistent feeling at the pit of her stomach nagging her all day is more than just nausea.

"Come with me," Elijah says, meaning for her to follow, but Caroline stands her foot.

"I'm not going anywhere." He turns around with a protest ready to fire, so she adds, bobbing her head towards Genevieve. "Someone needs to watch her."

"There's a war about to start inside these walls, Caroline."

"I know. And we all have a part to play."

Elijah fidgets on his spot, clearly not satisfied. "You should help, Klaus," Francesca says. "My brothers and their security details won't be much against a vampire army. It's all right. I'll stay with Caroline."

Caroline gives her a side-eye, wondering what exactly she thinks she'll be able to do if the battle comes knocking on their door. It's more likely Caroline will be the one saving her ass. But right now is not the time to fight her. At least until tonight is over, they're on the same side.

She stalks over to Elijah, taking one of his hands between hers. "I'll be fine. Go. And don't hold back."

He's still reluctant, but something about her must at least convince him that he won't get her to move out of Genevieve's side until she has all those stones in her possession. He sighs, nodding, and squeezes her hand tightly before going after Klaus.

For some reason, she feels better knowing the two immortals will be together out there than with one of them standing guard here with her. She has a feeling they'll be needing each other for what's to come.

Caroline just hopes Klaus has the white oak stake hidden where no vampire can find it.

 

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Elijah walks out into the courtyard to find his brother with a bemused look plastered across his face as he watches vampires flocking in from all directions. Some even jump from the roof, like a bunch of uncivilized animals.

He has to give credit where it's due, though; there are far more people here than he expected. Marcel has managed to rally the entire vampire community of the French Quarter against them. All because Niklaus threatened to give the werewolves, whom they've abused for decades, some weapons to fight back at last. It's pure hatred what has brought them all out tonight, ready to risk their miserable lives. How so very sad.

At least they're here fighting for a good cause, something greater than even this city's petty disputes: they fight for family.

"I thought this lot would've learned their lesson," Niklaus mutters. Not too long ago he killed half of Marcel's most trusted allies all on his own and sank his poisonous teeth into the ones who weren't smart enough to run.

"Well, they're not exactly renowned for their genius," Elijah offers.

"So where's the ringleader of this circus?" his brother's voice booms across the courtyard. "Too afraid to show his face?"

"I'm here," Marcellus announces himself, appearing on the second floor walkway like a king greeting his subjects. The sheer audacity of it makes Elijah want to remove the smile off his face with a pincer. "I'm gonna offer you one last chance to pack your stuff and get the hell out of my town."

"Or what?" Niklaus argues. "You'll allow your men to rush to their deaths? Again?"

"Look around. Every vampire in the Quarter is coming out. They want their city back, no surrender this time. You're gonna have to kill us all."

Klaus arches his eyebrows at Marcel. "Ok," he concedes, his voice almost serene. "I think I'll start with you, then."

"Fine. Come get me," Marcel shrugs, and then he flashes away from the compound. So typical... Starts a fight he cannot win and takes it to the street, like a coward, looking for somewhere to hide.

"If you don't kill him, I will," Elijah warns his brother.

"He's mine," Niklaus retorts. "This won't take long."

His brother whooshes away after his former protégé, leaving Elijah to handle the rest of the riff raff on his own. Well, Francesca's brothers and their suited guards are here somewhere, but he doesn't expect them to try to interfere. Their bullets won't do more than graze these rats.

It's been a while since Elijah last had a good fight. He hates to ruin a perfectly nice suit, but, truth be told, he could use the exercise.

"Gentlemen," he says, undoing the buttons on his jacket, his eyes set on Diego. "Shall we?"

 

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Klaus strides across the deserted streets of the French Quarter, following the stench of fear left by that traitor, with murder in his eyes.

He knows exactly what Marcel is doing, luring him away from the compound, hoping to distract him while his men try to take down Elijah. He probably thinks his big brother is an easier target. If Klaus wasn't so possessed by revenge, he'd find it in him to be amused by this common misconception about the noblest of the Mikaelsons.

His brother hides his monster well behind the fine lines of his suits and the polite smoothness of his voice. A _gentlemen_ , they believe, so civilized, so regal. Who they think taught Klaus how to fight? He may be more temperamental and explosive - after all he's half werewolf - but Elijah is just as vicious, if not more, when provoked. Not to mention he's much more of a snob, and if there's one thing he abhors is to have inferior beings claiming supremacy over him. Elijah really thinks himself some kind of royalty, as one of the original sirers of all vampires in existence. They do suffer from terribly inflated egos, the Mikaelsons. But not without cause.

Right now, Elijah has every reason to tear them all to shreds. They've dared to call the city _they built_ , that Marcel _stole_ from them, theirs, and now they violate their home, endangering his niece and the woman he so clearly loves. Caroline is as much a sore spot for Klaus as she is for Elijah. They're in for a surprise if they think the hybrid is the only one whose patience has run thin.

Marcel's only chance to remain alive by the end of this evening is to run away, as he should've done when he was granted him permission to leave the Quarter with his head still attached to his neck. But alas, he does seem to have a death wish, because he jumps out of a shadow and attacks Klaus from behind.

Stunned, he tumbles, and Marcel takes the opportunity to punch him with all his might. Once, twice, three times. Klaus straightens his posture, cracking his neck. "Not bad," he says, spitting blood on the sidewalk. "But not nearly good enough."

Show time, then.

He dodges Marcel's next attack and grabs him by the waist, hurling him against a light pole. Before he has a chance to recompose himself, Klaus smashes his head against the pole and then sends him flying across the street. He falls on top of a car, rolling off to the ground with a pitiful groan.

"How pathetic you've become," Klaus speaks around a sigh. "Explosives, Marcellus, really? I should've known it was you who detonated those bombs in the Bayou."

Marcel stands to his feet, his lips curling back to reveal his perfectly white teeth gritted ferociously. "The docks, that was me. I got the detonators from Francesca. Why don't you ask her about the Bayou bombing?"

"Lies and distraction," Klaus hisses at him.

"I never went after Caroline!" Marcel barks angrily. "I'm not a monster Klaus!"

Cold ripples through Klaus. If what he's saying is true — that Francesca is the one who blew up those bombs in the Bayou — then he just left Caroline and Elijah with her at the compound, with an army of vampires to keep his brother thoroughly occupied. If Caroline was the aim of that attack, she'll have a perfect chance to try again. But what could that woman possibly aim to achieve by this? She's human. Caroline can crush her with her thumb. There's absolutely nothing to be gained by antagonizing his family. She can't beat them.

No. Marcel is lying. He has to be. He's the one with the most to lose and, clearly, willing to risk it all to keep the wolves from leaving the swamp. He’s the one behind those bombs, behind Eve’s death, and now he aims to distract Klaus with his deceit.

"I don't believe you," he fires back before charging against the other man.

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Caroline taps her feet nervously. They can hear the screams and the grunts and the painful moans filtering in from the courtyard. She hopes to God that it's Klaus and Elijah kicking some vampire ass, and not the other way around. But the background noise is only making her more anxious.

She knows Genevieve is not actively stalling; she studied the spell, it's a complicated one and there are twelve stones to enchant. It's bound to take time. But, honestly, can't she hear the carnage going on right outside the door? It won't be long before one of the vampires decides to break in.

Her phone goes off. She picks it up, expecting it to be someone from the Bayou, one of the non-triggered wolves, inquiring about the rings, but it's Cami. She has no idea what her friend could possibly want at this late hour, but it's gonna have to wait until tomorrow. Caroline ignores the call and puts the phone aside.

A second later, one of Francesca's security men comes in. "Ms. Correa," he says. "We need to leave. Your brothers are already heading out the back."

She lifts a palm out, her eyes fixed on Genevieve. "Not yet."

There's a shift in the air; Caroline senses as a big rush of energy flows towards the stones all at once. She can almost see the lines surrounding the tiny pieces of black kyanite, and then being absorbed into them. The spell worked.

Genevieve stops chanting and picks one up to inspect. "The stones are finished," she says. "I've done my part. Now it's up to you."

Caroline nods. "I'll get them to the Bayou."

"Actually, she was talking to me." Francesca advances towards Genevieve, taking all of the stones into her hands.

Caroline blinks at the two women, her face creasing with stunned apprehension. "What the hell is this?"

"Call it a side deal," Francesca says. "I'm taking the stones."

She turns on her heels, ready to walk out, but Caroline chases after her. "Are you out of your mind? Do you think humans can go up against Klaus? He'll slaughter every last one of you."

Francesca stops dead on her tracks, a choked sound escaping her throat. "No," she grits out, drawing the air in through her nose. "I don't think humans can take on him. Then again, I'm not human."

She bends over with a loud, painful grunt, but a second later she straightens up, an ugly self-satisfied smirk spread on her lips. When she opens her eyes, Caroline sees them flash yellow.

Her heart gives a violent lurch, eyes wide in shock. "You're... A werewolf... How...?"

"We've been disguising ourselves for decades. But now, thanks to you, we won't have to anymore. I'm going to take back my town."

Caroline recovers fast, grinding her teeth together, magic coming to life inside of her with a ferocious rumble. A heavy gust of air rushes in as she stalks purposefully towards Francesca. "Like hell I'm letting you walk out of here with my stones."

She lifts her hand to give Francesca a stroke that will put her down for a month, but something stops her. Caroline's throat inexplicably constricts, the whole world tilting dangerously around her. Her vision doubles, and then starts to fade, a sharp twinge of pain on her lower belly.

She puts her hands on her stomach, gripping the fabric of her dress with every fiber of strength she can muster, and then everything disappears in black.

 

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Klaus punches Marcel's face into the ground until he hears a crack. The other man’s nose is a bloody mess, his eyes dark and swollen. It'll all be healed in a minute, but it feels good to destroy the pretty face that turned his sister against her own family, even if it won't stick.

He leaves the other man writhing on the ground and stands to his feet, looking at the pathetic figure of what used to be his favorite person in the whole wide world outside of his family. There was once a day, barely a century ago, when Klaus would've done anything for him. He would've fought an army for Marcel. Now look at them... He should feel sadder about this, he reckons. But Marcel hasn't just driven Rebekah away; he's dared to go after Klaus' new favorite person. The woman he loves, pregnant with his child. That cannot be forgiven.

"Marcellus," he drawls out, his voice drenched in scorn. "How well your name fits you. _Little warrior_... Though ultimately one of no consequence."

Marcel rolls over, pushing himself off the ground with a lot of difficulty, spitting blood and perhaps a few teeth on the street. "My name... is Marcel," he grunts.

He tries to launch at Klaus again, which is just getting ridiculous at this point. Klaus puts a hand behind his neck, smashing his face down onto a car. "Is there no end to your defiance? You summoned Mikael, turned Rebekah against me, tried to bury me in your garden, and yet you always fail. You never learn."

Klaus pulls him up, both hands around his neck. Marcel can barely keep his eyes open, but Klaus wants him to look at him, to see the face of the man who's given him everything, including his life, his precious immortality, and who will now end him once and for all. "What is there left to do but put you out of your misery?"

For just a second, the face of the little boy he rescued from that sordid plantation house flares up before him. The one Klaus raised like a son, teaching music and art and Shakespeare. He would never claim to have been a good father, but he did so love Marcel. A son, a best friend, a right-hand man, a brother... Klaus feels the familiar prickling of tears behind his eyes, his heart constricting in his chest as he glimpses the end of an era. He cries for the boy he once loved, not for the ungrateful one standing before him. This Marcel is but a twisted shadow of the past one, and he deserves nothing but Klaus' contempt.

He feels the roar of the beast inside of him as he sinks his fangs into Marcel's neck. Klaus could rip out his heart, sever his head, take off his daylight ring and watch him burn as the sun rises in a few hours. But these would all be quick, merciful deaths. Marcel has relinquished the right to kindness.

Oh, he will die, for certain. Slow and painfully, losing his mind to dementia bit by bit, all the while knowing that it was a _superior_ creature which he dared to challenge who condemned him to his fate. The same superior creature who could save him, but who will instead step aside and watch him perish.

All of a sudden, Klaus feels a sharp wave of pain in his guts. It sinks into his bones, making his vision explode in white. Klaus hollers, pulling away from Marcel. His first thought is that Marcel has stabbed him with something, but… It wasn't him. Marcel’s arms hang limp beside his body. There's no wound, no blood.

A tingly sensation starts on the palm of his hand, quickly sharpening until his skin is burning up and aching, and when he looks at it, he sees the cut Genevieve made with her dagger reopened, as though it'd never healed, and now bleeding profusely.

His stomach is racked with nausea, and all the blood he just drank from Marcel comes spilling out of his mouth with a violent shudder. His entire body spasms, and his legs threaten to give in under his weight as a second wave of pain hits him with much more intensity. Klaus howls, grinding his teeth and holding onto a car not to tumble.

Marcel takes his moment of distraction to whisk away into the night, but Klaus doesn't even have a chance to chase. Soon there's a third wave, and then a fourth, and a fifth, and with each new one he feels weaker, his entire body burning from the inside out.

He loses track of time as he stays writhing on the ground. It feels like forever while excruciating pain tears through him, barely giving him time to breathe or think or react. For some reason, he's not _healing_. It takes ages for the waves to stop shooting and the torture to recede enough for him to push himself up, but his limbs tremble, barely able to sustain his own weight, his hand still aching from the cut that refuses to close. He's weak, too weak; wouldn't be able to fight a human child right now.

He needs to feed.

Klaus stumbles his way across the street, so conveniently empty now that he could use an easy prey, until he reaches a bar. He smells food inside and finds a middle-aged man mopping the floors.

"I'm sorry, mate, but I'm a bit famished." He's not even done talking before he's throwing himself over the man, sinking his teeth into his pulsing carotid. Klaus drinks in large gulps, draining the man out like he hasn't done in a while. But as soon as he's done, his stomach swells, twists in pain, and he starts heaving violently, vomiting everything he just ate, and then some.

He’s been poisoned. That’s the only answer.

He hears a tiny giggle behind him, and when he whips around, Genevieve is there, a cruel slanted smile on her face.

"Don't you look awful?" she snickers.

"What is happening to me?" he sputters. "Why aren't I healing?"

"You were the one who wanted me to cast the spell using your blood. See, my plan was to use Caroline’s, but since you insisted, I had to improvise. So I made the stones by linking their power directly to you. Now every full moon, whenever a werewolf uses that power to keep from turning, they will be drawing from your strength and causing you terrible pain. You’re weaker than a mere mortal right now, Klaus. And no amount of snacks will be able to heal you."

Klaus swallows down hard, a mix of anger and fear coiling around his stomach. He locks eyes with the witch's icy cold ones. "After all I offered you... You'll betray me?"

Genevieve crouches down in front of him, holding his chin up. "Look me in the eye, Nik. Did you ever care about me, even for a moment?" He says nothing, but something on his face must be enough answer. Her eyes flash as she pulls her hand away. "I could never compete with her, could I? Your precious, pure Caroline."

 _Caroline_.

Her voice thunders through his head.

_Don't underestimate a brokenhearted woman, Klaus. Especially one with as much power and as much bitterness as Genevieve._

"Francesca kept her part of the deal. There is, after all, honor among thieves, even if they are werewolves," the witch continues as she stands to her feet and starts walking to the door. _Werewolves?_ The word registers in Klaus' mind, but his thoughts are screaming and he can barely make out what she is saying. Francesca Correa is a werewolf? That means…

The bombs in the Bayou. The stones. It all makes sense. Marcel wasn’t lying. It was her. It was all her. Klaus gathers every fiber of strength in his body in order to push himself up, leaning onto the bar.

"The great irony for you is that, in wanting to take the city, you've lost everything. Your sister. Your adopted son. And now even your child and her mother will suffer, all because of your greed,” Genevieve finishes.

A ferocious snarl rips out of his throat at her mention of Caroline. He tries to charge towards her, but he hasn't got enough strength on his legs or arms. His body tumbles forward, and he falls on top of the bar stools, breathing hard through his nose. " _I will kill you_ ," he seethes.

Genevieve scoffs. "As weak as you are? Doubtful. You're finished, Klaus."

She stretches out her hand, and his head explodes in agonizing pain once more, until he sees no more, and darkness is all there is.

 

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Elijah wakes up to the sound of a pitiful scream.

"No, no, no... Diego, no..."

His mind reels as he tries to gather his bearings, blood racing to his head in a dizzying rush.

He'd just about beaten almost all of the vampires to the ground. Only a handful of them still stood. Some had already fled. The casualties were few; they were far too many for him to take his time finishing them off. But it was a good show, he bet they'd learned an invaluable lesson. And then Francesca Correa walked in, surrounded by her brothers.

"Good job. Saves me the trouble of having to kill all these vampires myself."

Elijah narrowed his eyes, sensing something fundamentally different... Not only about her, but her brothers as well. A familiar stench... _Werewolves_.

Before he could react, however, he was jumped.

Elijah takes his hand up to his neck, his fingers brushing a terribly sore spot right under his ear. Three rabid bites. They attacked him, infected him with their venom. The rush was so violent he passed out. But if they managed to bite him in their human forms...

The stones. They must've taken the stones. That's why she was so interested, why she was so zealous when Niklaus called. But how did she even know about the spell? She must've been working with someone. With _Marcel_. But then... Did she betray him too?

Elijah lifts his head. Marcel is leaning over the body of his favorite acolyte, Diego. He's convulsing on the ground. All of them are. Francesca and her mobster family bit all of them, the ones Elijah had temporarily put down. If they were working together, then why would she turn on the vampires?

A woman comes rushing in, running, blond hair flowing behind her. For a second, in his daze, Elijah thinks it's Caroline, tries to pull himself up and go to her. But he staggers, his vision doubling as lancinating pain slashes through his head.

 _Caroline_.

He left her with Francesca. Caroline would've never let her take those stones without a fight. If Francesca managed to keep them... _No_.

"Oh my God, Marcel! I've been trying to find someone, anyone!" It's not Caroline. It's Camille, her voice quivering as she takes in the war zone around her.

"Cami, you need to get out of here," Marcel urges. "My guys have been bitten by wolves. They'll get sick and then blood-crazy."

"We need to find Klaus. His blood can heal you."

 _Niklaus_... Where is he?

He needs some answers. He needs some answers _now_.

Elijah pushes himself off the ground. Slowly, some clarity returns to him. Before going to Marcel, he returns to the dining room where he left Caroline, half expecting - and dreading - to find her body. But there's nothing. No sign of her, or Genevieve. Not even any signs of struggle. Someone took her, and they made so in a way she could not defend herself.

Fury flashes through Elijah, swift and hot. He left Caroline on her own to fight those _useless_ vampires and now _someone has her_.

" _Marcel_!" he barks ferociously as he returns to the courtyard. He'll keep his word; if Niklaus couldn't finish him, then he will. This is all his fault. But first... "Where is she?" he demands, stalking over to him. He pushes a chair out of his way, ready to break it and use it to stake the hell out of that ungrateful bastard. "Where is Caroline?!"

Camille rushes over to him, putting herself between Elijah and the vampire. "He doesn't have her," she says. "Please. I know you don't trust him, but you know I wouldn't lie. He doesn't have her."

Elijah peers into Camille's desperate eyes. "Why would I trust _you_?"

"Because she's my friend and I wouldn't lie about this. I've been trying to call her for hours, to warn her or Klaus - _anyone_. I found some files my uncle kept. He'd been investigating the Correa's for years. He found out that family's entire line was bogus. They faked birth certificates, changed names... They're werewolves. All of them. Guerrera werewolves."

"That's impossible," Marcel says. "I killed them. The entire clan. Ages ago, back in the 20s."

"Not all of them," Cami replies, shaking her head. "They survived and they managed to stay hidden. I'm guessing they're responsible for... this?" she motions towards the bodies writhing in torment all around them.

That offers some clarity. But he couldn't care less about which werewolf clan Francesca Correa belongs to. It doesn't matter. Right now, there's only one thing he cares about. "You haven't answered my question." He brushes past Camille to stare down at Marcel. He's got a huge, ugly bite on his neck. Niklaus' signature, Elijah recognizes. His fangs are different, shred the flesh in a much more vicious way. Marcel will be dead before the day's over. "Where's my brother?"

"I left him in the street. He was gonna kill me, and then he got jacked up by some witch's spell."

And just like that, it all starts to come together.

"Genevieve."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

They drag her, kicking and screaming, down the church aisle. She can feel her magic pooled deep inside of her, dormant. No matter how hard she tries to reach it, it just won't answer.

It's the manacles around her wrists. Those goddamn manacles again, limiting her movements and keeping her from taking down the fuckers holding her up.

"Stop fighting!" one of the guys hisses at her, giving her arm a violent jerk.

Caroline roars in rage, feeling a different kind of surge than the magic one as she elbows him in the face and then kicks him in the groin. He drops down with a painful cry, and she whips around, ready to strike the next one, but her body explodes in pain and she doubles over with a scream.

It can't be contractions. It's just not possible. It's too soon. She's still weeks away from her approximate due date. It just _can't_ be.

She's been getting these monumental cramps, washing through her like a wave across her entire lower body, since she woke up on the back seat of a car, surrounded by weird people and with these anti-magic chains binding her. Her back, her abdomen, her pelvis and then her legs... Everything screams with the ache that knocks the air off her lungs.

"Get her down on the floor!" It's Genevieve. She'd recognize that bitch's saccharine voice anywhere.

Some other pair of strong arms wrap around her from behind, dragging her the rest of the way, almost to the altar, and then pushing her onto the ground. Caroline thrashes about, kicking in every direction, hearing a crack as she connects with a jaw. But then Genevieve appears before her, hands out, pinning her body to the floor with magic to keep her from fighting back. Caroline grinds her teeth together so hard her head pounds, a frustrated roar ripping out of her chest.

What the hell are they doing? Why have they brought her to a freaking church?

"We need to take her to the city of the dead." Another voice, a young one. Caroline snaps her head around, trying to find who's talking, but another contraction hits — _it's not a contraction, it's not a contraction, it's just false alarm_ — and she scrunches her eyes shut against the pain, stifling a moan.

"We won't make it," Genevieve says. "The baby is coming now."

"No!" she bites out. "It's too soon! It's not time yet!"

"The plan was to hold her until we were ready to make the sacrifice."

"I had to subdue her and the trauma caused a placental disruption. She's gone into labor so the baby is coming now, we'll just have to adapt."

" _Let me go_!" Caroline manages to get herself free of the guy holding her down again, hitting him on the solar plexus with the shackle. She may not have her magic, but she's still werewolf-strong, and they're out of their minds if they think she'll stop fighting. But then there's another contraction, and her enraged scream turns into a sob as she shakes her head, muttering _no, no, no_ under her breath.

The baby is coming. Her baby is coming. _Now_.

_This can't be happening._

"You need to calm down, Caroline," Genevieve says, like she's being _unreasonable_.

"Why are you doing this?" she chokes out.

"To be reborn we must sacrifice." Caroline can see her now, the other person talking. It's Monique Deveraux. She knew there was something warped about that girl. Her manic hazel eyes are burning with a mad kind of fervor as she speaks, holding Caroline's hand down so she won't get hit in the face as well.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" she retorts. "Let go of me!" She tries to shake the girl off, but Genevieve uses magic to keep her from moving again.

"The ancestors demand an offering in exchange for power," Genevieve calmly offers.

"And your child will be a fine offering," Monique adds.

Caroline's heart skips a beat, her whole body going cold. " _No_ ," she mumbles. "No, please... _Please_. Don't hurt her. I'll do anything. Kill me, sacrifice me, but _please_ don't take my daughter... Please..." Her voice breaks off into a sob.

"I'm sorry," Genevieve says, crouching down next to her. "But this is the way it has to be."

Caroline throws her head back, releasing an anguished howl. It's a raw, desperate sound, and then it morphs into a painful one as another contraction hits, this one more acute than all the others before. Caroline doesn't stop screaming, doesn't stop thrashing, but she can feel it. The baby is coming.

 

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Klaus is limping his way through the streets of the French Quarter.

He's managed to feed on another poor soul who had the misfortune of running into him. This time, his stomach held. The wound on his hand has closed, though it still throbs, the phantom pain of the cut lingering on. He's still weak, but he can feel his strength slowly starting to trickle in. Dawn is not far, which means the werewolves are no longer under the effect of the full moon.

How the hell did he let this happen? How could he not see it? And not just him. Elijah, too. The two oldest creatures roaming this earth, cheated by a bunch of amateur _children_. It's pathetic.

He's trying to make his way back to the compound, but the progress has been painfully sluggish, and the longer he takes, the slower his limbs respond, the more frustrated Klaus grows. He's breathing hard through grit teeth, grunting as he pushes through the stabs of pain, his entire body cramping up. It's almost as though he were bloody _human_ again.

And then he hears it.

A sound that stops his heart, that makes him paralyzed in horror, ice cold fear pooling at the base of his spine. The worst sound in the world.

A scream. A desperate, scared and hurt howl that makes every hair on his body stand.

_Caroline._

It finds him cold, before the heat hits him will full force, and he explodes in rage, his entire face twisting into an ugly grimace as a feral roar as terrible as the night tears from his chest.

He's dominated by an irrational, inhuman force as the beast inside of him growls into life with a violence and viciousness Klaus hadn’t felt in a very long time. His mind throbs, and all he feels is thirst for blood and a desire to inflict _pain_ , his thoughts consumed by one thing only...

He needs to get to her. He needs to find Caroline.

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... What are your thoughts? I know this finale is very action-packed and super cliffhanger-y, but that's just the way it is. Drop me a comment here, over @ FF.net, or on tumblr! I'm galvanizedfriend there. Getting your messages really makes my day and I have a 30k words chapter to proof-read before I can update this story again. lol Don't have to say that knowing you're interested goes a long way! I put a lot of my time into this and bothered a lot of people, so I really hope you guys enjoy it. And if you do, it really costs you nothing to help make my day a little brighter! :) 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	21. S01E21 From a Cradle to a Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Season Finale**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da! This is the Season (maybe Series) Finale! :) It's a long one, so get yourself a cup of tea and get cozy. I don't have to remind you all again that this is **The Originals season 1** , right? Ok, then. Have that in mind.
> 
> More than ever, I have to thank my lovely beta **coveredinthecolors** for the AMAZING work she did with this chapter. I was a pain in her ass about this finale and she did not lose her cool with me once, which was incredibly generous of her. If you still find any mistakes there (and I'm sure you will), it's because I keep retouching the story on my own like the rebel kid that I am, so they're all mine and I'm sorry.
> 
> At the same time I'm dying to be done with this story, I'm also sad to see these characters go. I had an amazing time writing them (Elijah ❤) and I hope you enjoyed it at least a little bit as well. Also, I'm really dreading this finale and what you guys will think. I hope you know that I gave it my very best and everything you read here is from the bottom of my heart, so please be kind! I'm SO looking forward to your feedback and your comments and, please, don't feel shy. This is the end, folks! It's the time for you to share! If you have read this from beginning to end, I'd love to hear from you. :)
> 
> There are a BUNCH of A/Ns at the bottom explaining some of my decisions here and also answering some questions some of you might have. Read that or don't, it's your choice, this is over anyway. But I'd really appreciate it if you did!
> 
> As always, thank you SO MUCH for reading and for your amazing support! :) It's been an honor, folks! ❤

* * *

 

Caroline's new favorite thing is to sit on the rocking chair by the window in the baby's room. She doesn't know if Klaus thought about this while he was putting the nursery together or if it was a lucky coincidence, but it has quickly become her favorite nook in the house, perfect to soak up the morning sun.

And to think that in just a few more weeks she'll have the company of a tiny person in her arms while she gently sways back and forth on her rocking chair... So much has happened since Caroline found out about the pregnancy that it sometimes felt like it was lasting an eternity, but now that she's approaching her due date, time is moving faster than ever.

The last few weeks haven't been half-bad, all things considered. They've been getting some lovely days — sunny, but not too warm, with a gentle breeze that sways the curtains like a cool caress. More importantly, there have been no immediate threats to fight, no impending deaths to escape. Doom has taken some time off, and as unusual as it might be, Caroline is not about to start questioning those small blessings. They are far and few around here. Peaceful days that would be just another Tuesday on anyone else's life are the exception in New Orleans. She has definitely learned not to take it for granted.

She had some time to catch up on her _what to expect when you're expecting_ readings, her latest exams were all great and she's occupied two hours of Cami's friend's time a couple of days ago with all sorts of questions about the birthing process. "Wow. You really did come prepared, didn't you?" Dr. Lisa chuckled when Caroline pulled a bunch of cards out of her bag. "I'm always prepared."

She patiently talked Caroline through the whole thing — first signs, what to do, how long to wait, possible complications, how to tell false alarms from real contractions, and so on and so forth. She has a complete guide now, step by step, for when the time comes. Now all she has to do — besides wait — is give a crash course to her guardians. Something tells her Klaus and Elijah are more likely to freak out when she goes into labor than she is.

Of course, she was forced into an unexpected change of plans. Eve was supposed to deliver her daughter. It didn't really matter where or how; if her friend was there, Caroline trusted her to have everything under control. A stabbing pain flashes through her, quick and merciless, every time she remembers Eve is gone. It's been weeks, but the grief is still the same, still there, lurking around, ready to jump at Caroline whenever she starts thinking about giving birth.

As uncomfortable as it is, though, she's delayed dealing with this for as long as she could; now it's time to make some decisions. Should she go to a hospital or should she stick to Eve's idea of having a home delivery? Maybe Dr. Lisa can be persuaded to come to the compound — _not_ by compulsion, though. She knows what Klaus is going to suggest, and the answer is a resounding _no_. No one’s going to be compelled to do anything against their will, _especially_ not the people in charge of bringing her daughter into this world. It’s supposed to be a magical, joyful, heartwarming moment, not tainted by barbaric mind-control.

Caroline is writing it all down, point by point, compiling a thorough list of all the things she still needs to decide on and things that have to be made ready by her due date. Plans A, B, C and D for good measure, in case anything goes wrong, just so she won't have two panicked vampires running around like headless chickens, ready to snap necks left and right out of sheer hysteria.

This is Caroline in her element, it's what she does best. Prepare.

"Writing a love letter to one of your many suitors?" Klaus asks from the door, an amused grin dancing on the corner of his lips. Ever since Caroline moved back in, he's been at his absolute best behavior. They still have their occasional arguments because, well... It's Klaus. But all in all, she'd give him a B+ for effort — A- if she’s feeling generous and he’s in a particularly good day. Against all odds and much to general astonishment, he really _is_ trying. She can't complain. "Who's the lucky recipient?" he continues. "Elijah? Jackson?"

Caroline rolls her eyes. "It's you, actually." His eyebrows shoot up as he flashes her a dimpled smile. "But don't get overexcited, it's not a letter. It's a list." She lifts her notebook, showing him what she has been working on. This is page three already. "All the points we need to cover in preparation for the baby's arrival."

"That's disappointing."

"What? No way," she protests. "Lists are incredibly romantic. Nothing makes my heart beat like a good, thorough list."

He cocks his head to the side, eyebrows knitting together. "You're an odd little thing, aren't you?"

"I can write Dearest Klaus at the top, if it'll make you feel better."

He laughs, hearty and open, and Caroline notices, not for the first time, how good he looks like this. The way it softens his expression, how his eyes crinkle around the corners. It makes him look so much younger - so much more like the twenty-something guy he was before he was turned than the thousand-years-old hybrid he's become. It's a rare moment when Klaus is totally relaxed, and it sends a contented kind of warmth spreading through her chest.

She _really_ hopes their daughter gets his dimples.

"Ouch," she complains, flinching a little when the baby kicks. Klaus stops laughing, gives her a strange look, and Caroline realizes he's never actually felt the baby move. "Do you want to...?" she points to her belly. He opens his mouth, hesitating. "Oh, come on." Caroline leans forward, taking his hand. He kneels down in front of her and she guides his hand to where the little Mikaelson inside of her has been fidgeting. A moment later, she feels the kick. " _Ouch_. Jesus. Straight to the rib. Did you feel that?"

Klaus stares at her belly with a silly astonished look on his face, a curious glint in his blue eyes, so clear under the soft morning light. He excels at reaping life, but the miracle of _making_ it remains a mystery to him, and he looks like he cannot believe there really is a tiny human being in there. Their daughter, his and hers. Caroline knows the feeling intimately; she can hardly believe it herself, and she's the one getting her internal organs spanked on a daily basis.

"She's a little fighter, isn't she?" he comments as the baby continues to stretch her little legs, but gentler now, thankfully.

"I guess we know who she takes after."

There's another kick in her lower abdomen, this time a really strong one. Caroline yelps, doubling over, and when she opens her eyes, she's no longer in her baby's room, with Klaus. She's back at the church, chained and surrounded by witches. One of them — who is it? Monique? No, it's the other Harvest girl — is shaking her, pinning her shoulders down. "You have to stay awake!" she's screaming at her face. "You have to push!"

Her head is spinning. It's like being ripped out of a nice dream and thrown into a living nightmare, that sense of easy happiness replaced by lancinating pain, starting in her stomach and radiating across her entire body.

Caroline has been coming in and out of consciousness for the past — what? Thirty minutes? Three hours? She has no idea. It feels like forever. They've carried her up to the altar, pushed her legs up and covered her with a towel, which is now drenched in sweat and stained red with blood. Genevieve is standing at her feet, while the rest of the witches — including the ones she'd beaten up before, with their bloodied, grim faces devoid of any sympathy — pin her body to the table. The bleeding got so bad the despair in the witches’ voice has escalated, but Caroline barely has the energy to stay awake, let alone fight them. She keeps blacking out, the unbearable pain tearing through her skull, blurring her vision into white. It doesn’t take a genius to know there’s something very wrong with her.

Genevieve yells again for her to push, but Caroline’s only response is to stifle a sobbing, painful scream. In some distant corner of her mind, just beyond conscious thought — something she's utterly incapable of at this point — she knows the baby needs to come out. Eve's face keeps flashing in her mind, telling her to listen to her body, and what her body is telling her right now — what it's _torturing_ her into doing — is to _push_. But still Caroline refuses to. She knows the second her daughter comes out, they'll take her away, and there will be nothing she can do to stop them. The only reason they're keeping her alive at all is because they need the child. Caroline is pretty much the only thing standing between those witches and their sacrifice, and she's an anemic, half-conscious barrier at best. She has no idea what she's hoping for here, but maybe — if she can hold on long enough, if she can keep the baby in just a little bit longer — something will happen. Maybe magic will happen. A miracle will come.

The problem is, she’s getting weaker and weaker… Each second that goes by, Caroline feels as the last remnants of her strength ebbs away, her limbs becoming too heavy, her vision narrowing. What will they do then, if she becomes too far gone to push the baby out, but not yet dead? Stick a knife into her stomach and rip out the child with their bare hands, probably.

"Caroline, I need you to push!" Genevieve urges. "The baby is almost here, you're going to hurt her if you don't let her out!"

"No..." she breathes out, lolling her feverish head from side to side and squirming fruitlessly to get away from the witches' grips, but the energy to resist is bleeding out of her — literally. "I can't... It's not time yet..." she mutters incoherently, as her determination quickly dissolves into hopelessness.

She gets another splintering stab in her lower belly, her body cramping up violently, and, almost involuntarily, she starts to push. "That's it! It's almost here!" Genevieve cries. Caroline would rip her head off just for daring to give her a _pep talk_ while she's trying to force her daughter out of her for a sacrifice.

Suddenly, the church's heavy double doors fly open, and Caroline's head snaps towards it. Someone storms in, her blurry vision and the faint lighting means it takes a moment for the person to resolve into focus. But then she hears his roar — a violent, fierce sound of pure black rage that thrums through her like electricity. Like hope.

Caroline immediately starts thrashing again, though with not as much intensity as before, and the witches tighten their grip on her arms and legs. The two big guys she'd kicked before rush to stop Klaus, but he rips their heads off with only his hands as though they were blades. For just a brief second, Caroline allows herself to feel optimistic, to think that, even if it’s already too late for her, at least the baby will be saved. But then the witches turn to him, their palms out, and he goes flying into the air. They lift him above the altar and pin him to the wall behind. He grunts as he tries to move his arms against the invisible force taking hold of him, but it's useless. That brief spark of hope withers and dies in her chest, and Caroline stops fighting.

They have Klaus. It's over.

"Don't touch her! Get your hands off her! I'll kill you all!!" he's screaming, spitting fire, growling, but it’s no use.

She catches his eyes and, for a moment, he stops shouting. She sees herself reflected in the darkness of his gaze, all the fear, the helplessness, the guilt, the animalistic rage flaring hot inside of her, it's all there. It stings at her heart, and it’s when she knows for certain that they’ve lost. Klaus is just as desperate as she is, just as weakened — and just as scared. He knows what’s coming, and he knows he’ll be forced to watch, unable to do anything to stop it. It’ll kill him, just as it is already killing her.

Then another wave of pain overcomes her, and there’s no more space to think of anything else as she bites her lip to stifle a wail.

"Caroline! We're running out of time!" Genevieve yells. "If you don't push, she will suffocate and die!"

She takes a sharp, quivering intake of air, closes her eyes and blocks out everything else — the witches, Klaus' fury, the church — focusing only on her daughter. She doesn't have a choice anymore. _I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..._ she chants nonstop in the back of her mind as she grinds her teeth, gathering every ounce of strength left in her body to push.

"That's it! Come on!"

"Shut up! _Shut up, shut up, shut up_ , you hateful _bitch_!" she grits out, her body collapsing exhausted on the table as she tries to regain her breath.

Against the lancinating pain splitting her open from the inside out, Caroline goes again. Each push leaves her panting and burned out, but she doesn't stop.

"One more push, Caroline," Genevieve says, her voice rising above the sound of Klaus' threats. "She's almost here."

Caroline is at the end of her wits, she can feel her body won't endure this for much longer. If she passes out, it'll be the end for her and for her daughter. So she swallows past the lump and the dryness in her throat, forces herself up on her elbows, ignores the dull ache in her lungs as she takes a deep breath, and pushes with everything she's got. She grits her teeth, screaming, holding on to the last of her strength for dear life.

She feels the baby coming out, Genevieve pulling the rest of the way. "There. There she is," the witch is murmuring.

All the chaos seems to come to a halt, Caroline's very heartbeat feels held in suspense. The witches let go of her, Klaus goes quiet and even her panting breath subsides. The whole world stops moving. And then she hears it... The sound of her baby crying, hollering at the top of her tiny lungs. It fills the entire church, reverberating off the walls, finding echo deep inside of Caroline, sending a thrum coursing through her veins unlike anything she’s ever felt.

Genevieve wraps a towel around her baby and lifts her up for Caroline to see. "You have a beautiful baby daughter," she says. "We must start the sacrifice as soon as the moon sets on the morning sky."

"Please..." she croaks, her voice brittle and barely above a whisper. "Please, can I hold her? Please..."

The witch hesitates, exchanging a glance with the others before she walks around the table and carefully places the baby in her arms. As soon as Caroline has her haphazardly nestled against her chest, doing her best despite her chained wrists, the baby stops thrashing about, calms down, her cries dwindling to a stop.

A quaking sob escapes Caroline's lips. Her little girl is beautiful. Despite everything that happened tonight, all the trauma and the horror, of having been ripped out of her mother too soon, she's absolute perfection. It feels like the whole world has been trying to keep this moment from happening almost since the day she was conceived, and yet, against all odds, she's here. How can something so small be so strong, so resilient?

It's because of who her father is, Caroline remembers. The Mikaelson blood in her veins. For all the terrible burden that's brought her, it's also made her impervious to the evil that's tried relentlessly to end her life.

She looks up at Klaus, then. For a moment, the storm clouds dissipate and his eyes are wide and bright with emotion, his lips parted in disbelief. A warm, luminous feeling spreads through Caroline, and the barest hint of a smile dares to break onto her lips. And then everything happens at once, so fast she barely has any time to register.

Something cool touches her throat, and then there’s a swift, splintering pain across her neck at the same time someone pries the baby away from her. Caroline tries to scream, but all that comes out is a strangled gurgly half-sound. She feels like she's drowning, fighting so hard to breathe, but it's no use. Everything seems to slow down around her.

A weight settles across her, pressing down heavy upon her chest. Her body suddenly feels as though it weighs a million pounds, pulling her down. She feels so, so tired, and darkness tempts her with tenderness, with relief. Caroline closes her eyes, ready to let go.

The last thing she's aware of right before she finally surrenders to oblivion, is a terrible, guttural wail.

 

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Davina truly is a blessing. It only makes Marcel feel worse for all that this girl has been through in her short life. And for all that is probably yet to come.

She showed up while he was tending to his guys with the help of Cami, who refused to leave despite his insistence that it was dangerous for her to be there with so many vampires about to get into a blood-crazed trip. If there are two people in this whole town he wants to stay as far away from the compound as possible this evening, it's those two girls. But they're too loyal, too kind-hearted for their own good.

"I can't go home with everything that's happening, pretend that it's not my problem and go to bed like it's just another Thursday," Cami said.

"But it's not your problem, Cami. You're not a part of this."

"I _am_. You and Klaus made me a part of this, and my uncle was a part of this. He left a whole file with my name on it about the Guerreras because I was _supposed_ to be a part of this, and maybe if I'd decided to play my part sooner, this wouldn't have happened. Your guys wouldn't be hanging by a thread, _you_ wouldn't have gotten bitten and Caroline wouldn't be -"

She stopped herself then. It's crazy that she'd feel responsible for any of this at all, but he realizes nothing he says will change her mind. If he pushes her out, she'll just go roam around the city after Caroline on her own, and god knows what she'll find lurking in the shadows tonight, or how many bitten vampires are traipsing about right now, just waiting for some easy snack to come their way. So he allowed her to stay, with the condition that she had to remain right where he could see her at all times. And if he starts losing his mind... Well, then she has to run.

Many of his guys were already dead, some killed by Elijah or by the wolves, some quickly consumed by the werewolf venom. But many were still agonizing. Diego among them. Cami helped him make them as comfortable as possible, and even raided the Mikaleson's blood stash to feed them. The stronger they are, the better their chances to fight the infection, but the truth is... Marcel doesn't really have a plan. He makes them stronger, helps them last longer, and then what? The only thing that will save them is Klaus' blood, but how the hell is he supposed to get that? Klaus will never heal them willingly, not after tonight. Marcel was way too weak to fight him at the top of his form; after a hybrid bite, he doesn't stand a chance. Maybe whatever the witches did to him gives him better fighting odds, but... What about the baby? Whatever his feelings for this goddamn family, Marcel knows they're all out there trying to save Caroline and her child.

Much like Cami and Davina, that girl does not deserve the nastiness she's been dragged into. All because she made the mistake of getting carried away by Klaus' pretty face and easy charm. Marcel had no idea what Francesca and the witches were planning for her, no one told him she was a target; if he'd known, he would've stopped it. His resentment for Klaus notwithstanding, he wishes nothing bad for that kid. Feels sorry for her, even, just as he is sorry for Caroline. She's a good person, with a kind heart; helped to save Davina's friend, Timothy, took care of a bunch of injured wolves in the Bayou, tried to stop Klaus from murdering Rebekah. Marcel owes her, and he'd help her if he could. If he knew how. Right now, he doesn't even know how to help himself. He wishes he could have the chance to give a few words of wisdom to her baby girl, seeing as she'll have the same father figure as he did growing up, but he'd rather she lives to be disappointed in Klaus than she dies before she even gets the chance. How anyone could want to hurt an innocent baby is just beyond him. It makes him shake with anger, thinking that he got played just so some witches could take that pregnant girl to do God knows what to her unborn child.

He's running out of time here to save his own life and that of his guys, but he can't get in the way of the Mikaelsons saving that girl. He's trapped between a rock and a hard place, and it's all his own damn fault for falling so easily on Francesca Correa's trap. He gave her the distraction she wanted to hijack the spell, which in turn gave the witches the chance to kidnap Caroline, and then, after his guys got beaten by Elijah, all she had to do was step in and finish the job. How did he not see it? How could he rule this city for so long and not know the Guerreras were still alive? They were right under his nose this whole fucking time. He should've known there was something off the moment he got those detonators from her. He thought it was great to have an ally among the humans wanting to eliminate the werewolves as well; never stopped to think about _why_ she'd want to do that.

And he called himself a king... For the second time now, his greed has cost the lives of his men, his loyal followers — his _friends_. He's not worthy of being their king. And he's especially not worthy of Cami and Davina's friendship. He'll end up getting them both killed as well.

Davina went there searching for Klaus. Apparently he bit Josh earlier when he was trying to figure out where Marcel had taken the two Crescent wolves who went missing. As always, Klaus thought the way to get what he wanted was to torture someone's loved one. It worked, but he was supposed to go back to heal Josh and never did. Never will. Now Josh's way worse than everyone else. He got a nasty hybrid bite this morning, won't last the night.

Marcel explained to her everything that happened and why she shouldn't expect Klaus to fulfill his promise. So she asked about their fight, if he’s managed to draw blood from Klaus, and where it had happened. He told her, she went off and came back an hour later with a plastic cup half-filled with blood she'd collected off the sidewalk — and a dying Josh right behind her — thinking that she has saved the night.

How does he explain to her that the amount she collected is not nearly enough?

"I appreciate what you did, D," he starts. "But there's only enough here for one."

"No!" she barks, all indignation. "This has to be enough! It's all there was!" Marcel gives her an understanding look as he takes the cup from her hands. Josh is lying on a chair, his face the color of ash already. "Marcel, I can't choose," Davina says, her voice quivering as her eyes brim with tears. "Please, don't make me choose."

How could she ever think he would do that?

"Save your friend," he tells her. "I can take care of the rest of us."

He crouches down next to Josh, helping him sit up straight so he can drink. He can barely open his eyes, the poor guy. This is him in a few more hours, he realizes. It gives him a good idea of what awaits him. Somehow he managed to go for centuries fighting werewolves in New Orleans without ever getting bitten, only to be infected by Klaus, the man who’s a walking miracle cure. Irony and all that shit.

"I can't," Josh coughs out, trying to push the cup away.

"Judging by the look of that bite, you don't have time to argue," he tells him.

"Marcel..." Cami says in a pleading tone. He meets the concern on her bright, soulful eyes and gives her as much of a smile as he can muster at this time. He regrets so badly having brought her into this mess... His interest on her made Klaus keep her compelled for months. She's too good for this dark world of theirs. It will eat her up.

"Josh is one of my guys," he says, calmly, to both her and Davina. "And enough of my guys have died today. Come on, Josh. Drink this."

He turns the cup against his lips, watches as he takes the first draught of Klaus' blood, and sits with him until he's drank everything. It'll probably take some time until he's completely recovered, but Marcel can already see some of the color returning to his cheeks. He'll be fine. If everything else today fails, then at least they've spared a nice guy, and Davina still gets to keep a friend.

One problem solved. Now, on to the next, before the burning ache on his neck becomes too much for him to bear.

He leaves Josh to Davina's care and stands up, taking a good look around the courtyard. This is what he has to fight for.

"Hey," Cami says, rushing after him as he makes to leave the compound. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'll find Klaus," he replies. "Get his blood and save as many of my guys as I can."

"I think I can help." Marcel frowns at her, ready to turn down whatever crazy idea she's about to offer, but she hurries to add, "For that you'll need a weapon. And it just so happens that I have an arsenal."

"An arsenal? What are you talking about?"

"Come with me and I'll show you."

Marcel is half-inclined to turn her down anyway, but he has to admit that he's curious. What kind of _arsenal_ could Cami possibly have?

Davina joins them, once she's fairly certain that Josh will make a full recovery, and Cami guides them both to an apartment block close to the docks. Marcel has been to her place — more than once, actually — so he knows this isn't where she lives. The apartment is nearly empty, just a fridge a table and a couch. The kind of inconspicuous place drug dealers would use to make business. But it gets weirder when she takes them through a fake door that opens into a tiny room filled with _stuff_. It's the only way Marcel can describe it. Shelves and shelves and yet more shelves with boxes, files and the strangest kind of objects he’s ever seen. It smells like dust and vervain in there.

And then it clicks... It's Kieran's stuff.

"So this is what Kieran was hiding," he says. "What Francesca was after."

"More like stockpiling," Cami offers. "From what I gather, it's mostly weird weapons."

"No," Davina says, checking the stuff on the shelves. "It's dark objects. Made by witches."

"Co-opted by the humans," Marcel adds. He's pretty sure some of these things are familiar to him. They must've been around at some point, before they ended up in the hands of the O'Connells. Cami's family has been leading the human faction for generations. So this is how they do it. It all makes sense now. Except... He's pretty certain the priest did not mean for any vampires or witches to ever lay eyes on this stuff. "Kieran's been keeping this a secret for years. You really sure you wanna show me all this?"

"You told me once that knowing my uncle's secrets could get me killed. What if those same secrets could save the lives of my friends?"

"Look at this," Davina interrupts, showing them what looks like a shuriken. "I learned about it in the lycée, it's called the devil's star. They say one throw can make a thousand cuts."

"A thousand cuts sounds about right. I need to make Klaus bleed."

Davina gives him the star, and for the first time tonight he actually starts to feel a little hopeful. He and his guys might yet make it to the next morning.

God, he could _kiss_ Cami right now. He probably would, if Davina wasn't here. Then again, they'd never know about the star if she hadn't come. He can kiss Cami tomorrow. Provided he can find Klaus, of course.

"Marcel," Cami starts, turning to him with a concerned crease between her eyebrows. "They took Caroline. I don't know why, and I don't know what they've done to her. But Klaus and Elijah are probably trying to save her and the baby right now. Do whatever you have to, but make sure she's safe. Both of them." And then, almost like a plea, she adds, "She's my friend."

He puts a hand on her shoulder, giving her a comforting squeeze. "Don't worry. I never meant harm to that girl and her child, and nothing Klaus did tonight changes that."

"Be careful, ok?"

 _Well_ , he thinks. _Not like I have much to lose now._

 

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Elijah follows Niklaus' trail all the way to the church.

He's been all over town, went to every major congregation point to the witches in the French Quarter. No sign of Caroline, and no sign of any witches either. With each passing minute, he grew weaker, slower, his senses becoming impaired, and it considerably hindered his progress. It wasn't until he got a whiff of blood at a bar that he finally got a clue.

There was a dead body, signs of struggle, and Niklaus had clearly been there. However debilitated he might be, he could recognize his brother's scent anywhere. He was bleeding, and so Elijah followed his trace. The blood stopped after a while, so he had to depend exclusively on the scent. Smell is hardly a vampire's strongest sense and, in the state he's in, it was unreliable to say the least. It led him to a couple of dead ends until he caught the familiar trace of copper in the air. Not Niklaus', but enough that he knew something was off.

St. Anne's church. As he gets closer, he picks up his brother's scent again. And hers. He can smell so much blood...

He finds enough energy in him to run the rest of the way as a growing sense of urgency spurs him forward. It's too quiet, he notices with dread. Caroline, Niklaus, blood and silence. _No, no, no..._

He pushes the heavy double doors open and, slowly, grinds to a halt. The scent of death inside overwhelms him, a coppery taste staining the air. His vision is doubling, getting blurrier, and Elijah blinks several times, narrowing his eyes to try and make out what he's looking at. And then he wishes he hadn’t.

It’s as though the floor has opened up underneath him, swallowing him whole; like he's fallen into a bottomless pit of cold. His heart sinks into his chest, and then it shatters. For a moment, he's just standing there, incapable of taking another step forward, towards a reality that he cannot fathom.

His brother is sitting on the floor by the altar with Caroline's head on his lap, her body stretched out next to him. One of his hands is cradling her head, the other is placed on top of her stomach. The silence is roaring in his ears; not a heartbeat in her chest, nor in her womb.

"No..." Elijah breathes out, forcing his legs to move at last, approaching the altar. The closer he gets, the more the scene resolves into focus, the sicker he becomes. As he crouches down next to her, touching Caroline's cold, pale fingers, he finally sees the gash on her throat, the dry blood staining her clothes.

This girl... This beautiful girl, with her whole life ahead of her, after months of fear and unspeakable dangers, finally excited about being a mother... Gone. And so violently. Elijah promised her she would be safe when he met her. He gave his word that he would burn down the entire universe before he let anything hurt her. She stayed because she believed in him. In _them_. Because she trusted him and his brother, and they failed her. They were too selfish to let her go. Too greedy. Even with all the attacks she suffered, with all the evidence that the hatred rooted into this city's rotten soul would never allow something as radiant and good as Caroline Forbes o thrive and for her child to be at peace, they still kept her here. For their own sake, not hers. And now they've lost her.

Elijah doesn't think he'll ever forgive himself.

And neither will Niklaus.

His brother hasn't moved a muscle. His face is a mask of grief, his eyes are dark as coal, distant, haunted, and there's so much pain there...

"How...?" Elijah asks, barely able to find his voice.

Klaus is quiet for a long time. "I was bested," he says, dryly, his voice pitched low and grave.

"And the child?"

"They took her."

"She's still alive?" He doesn't respond, doesn't even acknowledge his question. "Niklaus. We need to go after her." When there's still not a blink from his brother, Elijah reaches out, touching his face gently, forcing him to look up. "Brother, listen to me," he says softly, holding his gaze levely. "We can save your daughter. It's what she would want us to do."

Klaus casts him off with a shrug, looking down at Caroline once more. His face crumples up as tears well in his eyes, his hand caressing her hair ever so softly. It's painful to watch, so Elijah turns his face away as his brother says goodbye to her. He wishes he could give him more time; he wishes _he_ could have time himself. But his niece has to be their priority now.

Niklaus takes a shuddery breath and finally meets his gaze. There's a quiet fury simmering behind the darkness of his eyes, threatening of impending retaliation like dark clouds in the horizon threaten rain. For once, Elijah wishes to see him unleash it all against the perpetrators of this horrible crime. They deserve all the suffering only the darkest, most corrupted part of Niklaus' rage is capable of inflicting.

He puts his arms underneath Caroline's body, carefully lifting her off the ground. With vacillating steps, he takes her up to the altar table and puts her there. "I'm so sorry," he murmurs against her skin as he leans over to place a kiss on her forehead.

When he turns back around, Niklaus lifts his arm to his mouth and bites down on his own wrist. "You've been bitten." Klaus' blood is indeed powerful. It heals his wounds in an instant, eliminating the infection that has been burning through his veins for hours. "We don't go back home without my daughter," he says. "And the heads of every single one of those witches."

 

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Klaus is thinking of anger.

That's what's moving him right now. What's propelling him forward, making his legs react, his muscles tense, a buzz coursing underneath his skin. _Anger_. It shoots through him like electricity, settles deep into his bones, pulsing in his ears like a bass drum. All his other needs, all his other cravings, are pulverized in the wake of the rage that dominates him. Klaus is at the edge of his wit, and all it will take for him to plunge into the depths of mayhem is a single shove. He would burn down the entire world, unleash every horror in existence, devastate this whole city, just to make them pay, with interest. Anyone. Everyone. He doesn’t care anymore. Let them all die.

They've taken her from him. The one thing he dared to love in almost a thousand years of a meagre, miserable existence. Caroline was the heartbeat of his world, of his very soul. Without her, everything has gone quiet. Dead. Meaningless. They've taken her away, and the emptiness left by her absence has been filled with uncontrollable, world-burning rage. The kind of rage that will eat him up, corrupt every last part of his being, become brutal, savage, inhuman. It will tear apart all it touches, and it won't ever, ever stop. Not reaping all the souls in New Orleans will be enough to quench his thirst — to make up for what he’s lost.

They don't know the kind of violence he is capable of. They don't know him. They've seen the version of him that's been tamed by her, that would stop before he crossed a line she would never accept. Now the darkest part of his fury has become unhinged. They will know him now, the real Klaus Mikaelson. The monster that’s inhabited the nightmares of generations throughout history, who tore through villages and kingdoms, destroyed entire families, chased after his enemies until they were driven mad with paranoia, afraid of their own shadows, of the voices in their own heads. The calm at the center of his storm had a beautiful, melodic name and a sunshine smile that could stop the raging war inside of him. With her gone, a storm is all he is. War is all he craves for. And he will give it to them, unleash it upon them. They shall regret the day they crossed his path.

Klaus tastes ashes in his mouth, sees nothing but red. He can't allow himself to think of anything else but the anger, otherwise he will succumb to grief. He could barely move when Elijah entered the church, didn't even know if he still had a voice. He used it all to scream off the top of his lungs when they sliced her throat open right before his eyes, straining to get free of the invisible ties keeping him from going to her. And just as it seemed he was about to do it, they twisted his neck and left him dead on the floor, inches away from where Caroline bled to her death.

Their cruelty will be dutifully repaid. And that's all there is to him right now, because he needs to save his daughter and he doesn't think he can do it if he lets it sink in that he's lost her mother. He's not a father without Caroline, doesn't know how to be. She's the only reason why he ever endeavored to become one, why he dared to believe it was possible for him to wrestle with the traumas of his past and the mistakes he made with Marcel and raise a child of his own.

Because of her. It was all because of her.

He thought the last shred of hope he had had been torn apart by Mikael in 1919, and for nearly a hundred years, Klaus Mikaelson was nothing but vileness and destruction. He became the abomination he was made out to be. But Caroline saw something in him. She believed he could be better than he was, that in the middle of all that monstrosity and depravity, there was good. Something worth saving. Worth loving, maybe. She believed in something better for all of them. And because of her, so did he.

Now she's gone, and she's taken all his hope with her. All his goodness. He promised he wouldn't do to his child what was done to him, what Caroline's father did to her. But how could he ever be a father like this? What kind of parent will he be?

"The tombs are empty, the grounds are deserted. She's not here," Klaus growls at his brother.

The cemetery was the obvious choice of location to start searching, but there isn't a single soul, a single sound, anywhere. They're on the cusp of dawn, and Klaus heard them say they would perform their sacrifice when the moon set in the morning sky. They don't have much time left.

"This is the only place they can be," Elijah retorts.

"They're not here, Elijah. We're wasting time!"

"Their Harvest was here, the reaping was here. This ritual they want to perform is supposed to feed their ancestors, all of whom are buried here. They must be here." Elijah whirls around and his eyes befall a statue on top of one of the tombs. A weeping angel. "This statue," he says, pointing at it. "We've passed by this three times, all whilst going in the same direction."

Klaus approaches the tomb, touching the tips of his fingers to the stone. It feels cold, rough, _real_. But if his brother is right... Then it can't be. "They've fabricated some kind of illusion."

Elijah flashes to the top of the tomb, his face falling as he looks out into the distance. "That's one way to put it. It's... endless."

Klaus scrubs a hand across his face, feeling a brand of exhaustion that has little to do with his body. "How are we supposed to do this?"

"We keep going. Let's mark the tombs we've passed through so we'll know when we're walking in circles."

The fire of his brother's resolve is commendable, Klaus thinks, but he finds it hard to share his belief. He’s already failed his daughter once by losing her mother. He's about to fail her again.

Elijah pushes him onward, and his anger, his vindictive desire, keeps him going. They know they're at the right place, or the witches wouldn't have bothered spelling it. But to actually find the correct spot...

They walk for hours around the cemetery, watch the sky turn purple and then lighten up to blue, and still they make no progress. Elijah has dutifully marked the tombs every time they turn a corner, but there seems to be no end to their illusion.

"There has to be a way around this," his brother says. "Even if we could just push through. We need to focus."

Something fragile snaps inside of him all of a sudden, and he is overflown with the grief and the despair he'd been pushing down. He stops walking, his arms falling helplessly next to his body, his shoulders sagging in despondence. "This is the world I created."

"Brother -"

"All of my scheming, the enemies that I have made every single day of my life - _this_ is the end result. What did I expect? That my child would be born into a happy life? That her mother would be alive to know her daughter? That we could live and thrive as some kind of family? I never wanted that! That was _your_ fantasy, not mine!" he roars, pointing a finger towards Elijah, his anger expanding to include his own brother. "You pushed it on to me until I made it my own. Until I believed it. This was my hope, Elijah! My light! _She_ was my light! And now she's gone!" His voice wavers around the edges, choked by the tears he fruitlessly tries to hold back. "I let Caroline in. I don't let people in. And I couldn't protect her. I couldn't save her. I should've let her leave, go back to her family, to her hometown, where she would be cared for. But _you_ had your devious dreams of building a home for our family," he grits out angrily again. "And you contaminated me with your illusions! I needed her, Elijah! And now she's gone!"

He lets out a growl of frustration, walks away from Elijah and then stops. He has no idea what to do with this feeling. Vengeance he understands; he will break things, tear people apart, drink the blood of his enemies. But this resentment that eats away at him? He can't hurt his own brother. And so he sheds off his anger, before he turns on the last person still standing by his side. His daughter's best chance. It clenches itself into a tight knot, coils around his insides like a snake. Without the rage to support him, Klaus flounders. His legs threaten to give in under his weight and he sits down with his head between his knees. Without the anger, he is drowning. Lost. It was all that was keeping him together.

Elijah sits down next to him. A long, poignant silence, heavy with implication, stretches on between them.

"I lost her, too," his brother speaks after a moment, putting a hand on his arm. "And it's nothing compared to what you feel. But I won't lose my niece as well. I refuse to. Let's find your daughter, Niklaus, so you can tell her how much you loved her mother."

 

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For long agonizing seconds, her mind is completely blank. She has no idea what's happening. It's like when she woke up from the surgery after that car accident with Tyler, coming off the very strong drugs. Was she in an accident? She is sluggish, heavy, her thoughts clouded. There's a stillness in her chest, cold and — not painful, not exactly. But worse, somehow. Uncomfortable. Caroline feels strangely... hollow. Like someone carved out a hole inside of her and sucked everything out. Like something is missing. Something big and vital.

This doesn't look like a hospital.

She tries to align her scattered senses — the dim light seeping in through colorful-glazed windows, the ominous silence, the coppery smell of blood. _Blood_. It's like a scratch overwhelming her perception, then a jolt of electricity coursing through her body, awakening her awareness from a deep sort of slumber, growing until it's an itch on her skin, a craving. It roils in her gut like fire, this desperate _need_. Old, cold, dried blood. How does she know that?

The scene finally resolves around her. She's at a... church?

A memory flickers through her mind. A voice. A raw, guttural scream.

 _Klaus_.

Her entire body is lit up as her full memories are sparked back into life, crashing into her like a tsunami. She sits up with a gasp, her hands flying to her throat. There was supposed to be a gash there, where they sliced her open, but her skin feels smooth and perfect, if a bit cold.

 _The baby_.

Panic seizes Carolines, her heart pounding in her ears, as she touches her stomach. It's completely flat, like it was nine months ago. Like there was never a baby in there. Her eyes well up with tears, her vision swimming as she closes her eyes against the crushing sense of loss that smashes down upon her.

And then she feels... Something. A cool and calculating clarity she cannot explain, that makes her oddly serene and level-headed, clouds dissipating in the matter of a second.

She can feel something calling out to her, this force that thunders across her body, stronger than the hunger, than the panic, stronger than anything else. And she realizes... It's her daughter. She's still alive. Caroline can feel her presence like it's an extended part of herself, as though invisible lines of energy are drawing them together. But she is... Far. Too far. The distance throbs like physical pain and, all at once, the whole world contracts to just her and her baby.

The room tilts as she jumps off the table, steadying when she touches her feet to the ground.

Caroline feels numb, empty and so insanely hungry. But there's only one thing she needs right now, the only thing that matters, the most important thing there's ever been in her entire life: finding her daughter.

 

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Caroline was like sunshine.

Elijah remembers thinking that a short while after they met. She was scared, angry, homesick, consumed by doubts that were enough to drive anyone insane, but still she could turn it all into light in the space of a second. Nothing could put it out. Bright like the sun. Caroline's vivacious, energetic personality was in direct contrast to their own; they repelled while she attracted. She could look into their rotten cores and find redemption. And for that, Elijah loved her. To creatures such as them, accustomed to the darkness, that is so rare. To them, she was sunshine.

And yet, all the grief and the heart-stopping pain he feels over her loss... It is nothing compared to Niklaus’.

Elijah recalls the exact moment he realized something fundamental had changed about his brother. It was the middle of the afternoon, a few days after Caroline had moved back in, and Elijah heard music. It was a soulful, nostalgic tune, echoing across the otherwise cold corridors of the compound, and it made him stop. The only music he'd heard since their return to New Orleans were his own sad tunes on the piano back at the plantation house, but it was more of an outlet, an expression of his state of mind, than true pleasure. While paintings had always been Klaus' art, music was his. It'd been a long time since there was any music in the Mikaelson household just for the joy of it.

Curious, Elijah followed the sound. At first he thought it was just Caroline, but he passed by her room, and then Niklaus', all the way to the ballroom on the first floor. They hadn’t used that space once since moving in.

He heard the sound of laughter, and then quick steps, before finding his sullen, broody brother dancing with Caroline who, as always, looked as bright as a jewell. It was a slow song, but they didn't really bother with following the rhythm as they moved around. They were just... Having fun. Enjoying themselves. Niklaus, ever the exhibitionist, was showing off some complicated moves Elijah's pretty certain he picked up during the foxtrot fever years. Every time he spun her around, Caroline would crack up laughing. And every time she did so, Niklaus' entire face would light up.

The scene was so entrancing Elijah couldn't stop staring. Niklaus looked magically younger in that moment, more like the gentle boy he used to be before their parents made monsters out of them all. Elijah was stunned; he never thought he'd see that boy again.

They laughed at the awkwardness of trying to slow dance with a nearly nine months bump between them, a light-hearted banter, until Klaus stole a kiss from her. Such a juvenile gesture, not demanding or possessive or brash as one would expect of him, but rather like he just couldn't help himself. It sent Elijah's mind reeling back to a thousand years in the past, when they used to dance around bonfires in the woods and Klaus would steal bashful kisses from Tatia with color on his cheeks.

Elijah smiled to himself, but he couldn't stop the stab of jealousy. That out of all of them Niklaus should be the one to find that kind of uncomplicated happiness seemed so inexplicable. At times, even unfair. Well, perhaps uncomplicated was the wrong word; it was definitely nothing short of complicated for the two of them to get to that point where things felt easy and natural. But the domesticity of his life with Caroline since her return to the compound was definitely cause for envy, and Elijah meant it in the best possible way. His own feelings for her had nothing to do with it.

He'd already understood then how it was seemingly impossible for him not to get involved, sucked into the whirlwind of emotions that marked Caroline Forbes' arrival to New Orleans. He'd put her on a pedestal, and in that sense she wasn't wrong to accuse him of treating her as an ornament. She was the mother to be of the first Mikaelson child in a millenium. Elijah was bewitched. And it was only too easy for that to get confused and out of hand, blossom into something else, because Caroline, as it turned out, was extraordinary in her own merit.

Over the years, Elijah saw an infinite array of lovers parade in and out of his brother's life. Well, they all did have so many of them. But Niklaus used to fancy himself as a bit of a lady's man back in their old Crescent City days. He behaved himself like a little prince, spoiled and entitled, making his way through the world as though he expected it to move out of his path. It usually did. And the society women of that time, so repressed and condenmed to lives dictated by men and their ridiculous rules, ate it up. Niklaus was a free spirit, a force of nature, impossible to avoid — he still is, Elijah reckons, it's just the times that have changed around him.

His brother has a passion for the challenge, and for defying his enemies and anyone who dares to cross him. The tamer he became in the name of diplomacy, of establishing peace between the factions, the more ferocious he was in how he broke hearts. He had affairs with the mayor's young wife, the French ambassador's fiancé, with the twin daughters of the chief of police, the leader of the Crescent wolves and a handful of others related or married to prominent figures, some of them all at the same time. It caused their family so much trouble... Most of them were absolutely disposable, a handful perhaps came to be very dear. But none managed to capture his attention for more than a few weeks. Niklaus' appetite was as restless as his volatile nature, and he was never careful in how he handled them. As soon as he was done, he'd send them on their way, and those who refused… Well. They didn’t protest for long.

No matter how hard Elijah picks his memories to the last time he's seen Niklaus as devoted to someone as he is — _was_ , he corrects himself with a sharp pang — to Caroline Forbes, he just can’t. Not since Aurora. Granted, they spent long stints of time separated. There could've been someone he never knew of, but he doubts it. Niklaus is far from discreet when he finds himself a new obsession, especially in the form of a person. As subtle as a thump to the head, his dear brother. Caroline's face is all over his sketches and paintings, has been so for years. There would've been evidence of a longer lasting infatuation if there had been any.

The thing with Caroline is that she wasn't just someone Klaus wanted to have for the sake of spite. Or, at least, didn't remain so for long. Caroline didn't just charm him or inspire him with her beauty, as was the case with so many of his fleeting muses before. She challenged him, refused to bend to his whims, to accept his bad behavior and lack of compassion as just another personality trait, held him accountable for his every mistake - and demanded more from him. Her sharp mind and even sharper tongue were always quick to lash at his misdeeds. She never backed down, always looked him straight in the eye, and wasn't the smallest bit afraid. From what Rebekah shared of their time in Mystic Falls, it wasn't just a matter of being confident that he wouldn't hurt the woman carrying his child; she'd always been like that, right from the start, and not just towards him either. She was fiery, that girl. Fierce. Fearless. _Annoyingly so_ , were Rebekah’s words. Her lack of restraint when it came to staring down Mikaelsons extended to their sister as well, and the two of them found themselves in several quarrels over minor school grievances. It explains why Rebekah grew so fond of her during the time they spent together in New Orleans; his sister always respected those who stood up to her far more than those who relented.

That passionate, intense spirit of hers drove Niklaus crazy, how he couldn't control her, couldn't instil her with the sort of fear that made everyone bow down to him. But, even if at times he reacted rather brazenly — he has, after all, an infamously bad temper — the truth is Caroline’s character captivated him. He was just as attracted to her enthusiasm and essence as he was to her alluring exterior.

It was in that moment that Elijah finally understood how far they'd come. To see his brother - his vicious, cold-hearted, selfish brother - in such an uncharacteristically merry mood, dancing with a girl so dear to him in the middle of the afternoon, so careless and free...

Well, it filled Elijah with promise, made him realize he wasn't wrong in his predictions that that child could be the door to his brother's redemption, to the salvation of their family. He was just looking at it the wrong way. It was the child what brought them all together, yes. But it was Caroline who had changed everything.

If Niklaus, of all people, could find happiness, then not all was lost for the rest of them.

Now... Something has gone off behind his brother's eyes. The last shreds of his humanity. Darkness is all there is left.

It took him nearly a thousand years to find love again after the last time, and this loveless, barren existence nearly destroyed him. It nearly destroyed everyone. Losing Caroline might've broken him beyond repair. All the hope, all the promise for his redemption — gone. Especially if they can't get to his daughter in time. That little girl is Niklaus' last connection to Caroline. She's what they've all fought for all these months. What her mother died for. And more than anything Elijah knows Caroline would never forgive them for not saving her child. Not finding her is not an option. They _have_ to.

And yet, they've been circling this cemetery for eons and not a trace of the witches has been found.

"We've passed here already," Niklaus says, his voice devoid of any fire now, as he touches the mark Elijah left on the stone inside one of the tombs the witches used for their rituals. Empty, as every other corner they've inspected so far.

"Then we have to move faster," he insists, ready for a u-turn and to keep going. They can't stop.

 

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The sunlight is like knives and sandpaper upon her skin. Caroline can barely keep her eyes open against the brightness, everything is so washed out, so _white_. But it doesn't hold her back. There's not enough discomfort in this world to keep her from finding her daughter.

She doesn't really know where she's going, just allows her legs and her instincts to guide her, the energy lines pulling them together across the distance. Eventually, she makes it to Lafayette cemetery. Figures, she thinks in some far corner of her mind. The City of the Dead, like Monique said, the witches' sacred ground. Of course that's where they'd go for a sacrifice as big as the one they intend. Caroline cannot look up at the sky to see whether the moon has already set or not; it's too much light for her sore eyes. But she can still feel her baby, so that tells her it's not too late.

Now... where to go?

There's a trail of something pulling her. She can't tell exactly what it is — a scent, a sound, a feeling. It just leads her through the endless rows of tombs, until she starts hearing voices. Male voices. Talking, arguing.

Klaus and Elijah.

Her heart stutters, but she follows their voices into one of the tombs. The one Sophie took her all those months ago when she first told Elijah and then Klaus about the pregnancy. Being out of the sun feels like a small mercy and immediately her mind seems to defog a little.

They're saying they don't know where the baby is. That they're running out of time.

"We've passed here already," Klaus says.

"Then we move faster," Elijah replies.

"Or smarter," she offers.

They both whirl around at her with wide eyes, all the color draining off their faces, both stunned into a silence heavy with dread and incredulity.

"Caroline," her name escapes Elijah's lips, barely a whisper, as though he's afraid of saying it out loud.

Klaus takes hesitant steps towards her. His unblinking eyes rake over her entire body, stopping for a longer moment on her neck, where the fatal wound was supposed to be, before moving up to her eyes. His desperate screams thunder through her mind; it was the last thing she heard. She can feel it in her bones, like a cold thrum of energy. The memory steels something inside of her, something twisted with a terrible kind of anger.

Caroline flinches when he touches her, his shaky hands cupping her face as though he cannot believe she's really there. As though he's afraid she'll prove to be just a figment of his imagination, or that she'll suddenly vanish out of thin air. It feels... different, his touch. Like electricity burning through her nerves. Not exactly pleasant. But she doesn't shrug him off. There's such agony in his eyes, such sadness... He's grieving.

"How are you here?" he asks, his voice airy and choked.

"I woke up in the church. And I knew I had to find her." She stops, something sparking inside of her. "I can feel her," she says, stepping away from Klaus' grasp. "She's here. I can feel my baby."

"You died with the baby's blood in your system," Elijah says, a hint of sorrow in his tone. "She's in transition. She has to feed if she is to survive."

"To be reborn a vampire," Klaus finishes for his brother.

That hunger, the overwhelming feelings, the screaming memories... The void inside of her, the silence where her magic was supposed to be singing. She's no longer alive, no longer a keeper of nature's balance. A vampire. That's what she is now.

"You need to feed," Elijah continues. "To complete the transition."

Caroline shakes her head. "I don't care about me. I'm gonna go find my daughter."

She exits the tomb with Klaus and Elijah right behind her, again wincing when her skin is touched by daylight. But she can sense her baby's presence stronger than ever now, so she just ignores the distress and follows that feeling. Somehow she knows exactly where to go.

A couple of turns ahead, Caroline finally spots her. Genevieve, flanked by the two Harvest girls, pointing a knife towards her baby.

" _No_!" she screams, a sound so raw and mauled it's barely human.

Elijah grabs something and throws it at Genevieve. The witch drops with a painful yelp, the knife flying from her grasp. But the two girls are already at work. They join hands and start chanting, their palms out towards them. Caroline can see the spirits that come to their aid, all their ancestors drawing together to feed them strength to finish the sacrifice.

Her first instinct is to call upon her magic, but all she finds is the void. She's disconnected from the natural world; living, but not alive.

"You fools!" Monique barks at them as they're sent flying into the air by an invisible power. Caroline falls against a statue with a groan. "You dare to come against us in our place of power, in our strongest hour! You don't face three! You face us all!"

Caroline pushes herself off the ground with an angry grunt. Having all these witches join forces against her, against her _daughter_ , is making her more vindictive than ever. She was one of them and they killed her. They deserve to disappear into nothingness on the Other Side.

She starts running with a speed and a might she never had before, and she makes it to Genevieve just before the witch manages to pick up the dagger again, kicking it away from her hand and striking her right across the face. The woman's slim figure tumbles back to the ground, and Caroline punches her again to keep her down. She can hear her baby crying, but as she tries to rush to her daughter, she's crushed by a splitting, paralyzing pain. She screams, holding her head like it's about to burst, her vision exploding in white, and she's brought down to her knees.

She tries to lift her head, to yell for Klaus to go to the baby, and she sees the moment when he sends a piece of the iron fencing flying straight into one of the Harvest girls' chest. The strength of their spell diminishes, and Klaus and Elijah should finally be able to make it to the baby, but Monique is quicker. She takes the dagger and rushes to finish the sacrifice, conjuring a wall of fire to surround her and keep the two Originals from approaching.

" _No! No_!" Caroline growls, and Genevieve increases the pain in her head until her shouts are but an incoherent tune of despair.

And suddenly, it all stops. Panting and still feeling the pain echoing across her bones, Caroline sees that Monique has been hit by something. A weapon of some sort. _No, not just a weapon_. It's a dark object, plunged into her chest, but causing her entire body to bleed through tiny little cuts. She drops the dagger and falls to the ground.

Before anyone can move, though, Marcel shows up and takes the baby, flashing away with her daughter in his arms.

" _Klaus!_ " she yells at him, a clear command in her voice. He seems to hesitate for a second, probably considering whether to go to her aid first, with Genevieve still standing right behind her, but the fire in her eyes must be glaring, because he then disappears after his adoptive son.

It's the cue for Genevieve to start torturing her again, but it doesn't go on for long. Elijah strikes her unconscious and the pain stops, Caroline's body dropping to the ground in an ungraceful heap.

"Are you ok?" Elijah asks, crouching down beside her.

 _No_ , she wants to say, her eyes scrunched shut against the luminosity. She's in pain, the very light is agony, Marcel just took her baby and she's _dead_. The smell of blood from the little witches' body is filling her nostrils, overwhelming her every sense, making her stomach stir violently. She's not ok. She might never be ok again.

But she nods her head anyway.

In amidst all the thoughts screaming in her head, all the feelings threatening to tear her apart and the worry gnawing at her insides over her daughter, Caroline sits up and sees red when her eyes fall over Genevieve's form.

"Get her."

 

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Caroline's screams were like a thousand knives piercing through Klaus' heart all over again. His entire body wanted to reach out to her and stop her pain, tear Genevieve's head off for hurting her. It took him right back to the church, to being forced to watch her suffer through a harrowing labor only to get mercilessly slaughtered right before his eyes, all the while rendered helplessly useless.

He can hardly believe she's really here. Turns out their daughter did what he couldn't: save her mother from permanent death.

Klaus was shaken when he touched her, half of him believing that he was imagining her, that she was a product of his desperate, distraught imagination. If Elijah hadn't been there, he doesn't think he would've trusted his eyes. She felt cold to the touch, and there was something amiss in her eyes, an odd sense of detachment about her, like she was there, but not completely. Caroline seemed... hollow. He felt her flinch when he reached out to her. Transition is an ungrateful thing. The last moments of your natural life are amplified — all the feelings, the memories, the sensations, it all rolls into one giant punch of emotional torment, overwhelming enough to break one in half. Klaus can't even fathom what it must be like for her, given the absolute agony she was put through. No wonder she's so unsettled. But she's also driven.

There was something more important than the hunger or the grief pushing Caroline forward: their daughter. Above everything else, the most intense feeling she carried with her into the afterlife, and that has been heightened by her transformation, is the desperate need to save and protect her baby. She hasn't even fed yet; most vampires would've succumbed to the cravings at this point, but not her. Their girl is the only thought on her mind.

Which is why he knew that if he dared to go to her aid while Marcel slipped away with their child in his arms, she would never forgive him. Klaus doesn't think Marcel would kill her, not anymore, and especially not after he murdered Sophie Deveraux' niece with that strange weapon of his. Marcel saved his child's life. But Klaus bit him a while back, and the second the poison in his veins takes over, he'll no longer have any control over his own actions. His venom-induced cravings might prove too much for him to resist.

He heard his daughter crying from the top of her little lungs, oblivious to the danger she was in, but likely scared nonetheless. So he exchanged a knowing look with Elijah, and dashed off after Marcellus. It wasn't hard to track him; he was hurt, infected, the wound on his neck still open, exuding a pungent smell. But there was something else there as well. Something lighter, softer, different from any scent he's ever felt. It awakened an urgency inside of Klaus, a primal sort of instinct, almost as though it was calling out to him, palpable and strong: his daughter's scent. Klaus held on to it and followed Marcel all the way back to the compound.

It's eerily quiet there, such a sharp contrast to the mayhem that took over mere hours before. But the scenario inside is that of a war zone: bodies all over the place, blood staining the ground and the walls, the very air choked with the smell of decay, of death. The water cascading on the fountain in the middle of the courtyard has turned red. Klaus doesn't have to check to know every single one of the vampires there are dead, and not by Elijah's hands. It has werewolf odor all over it. Francesca Correa and her _brothers_ , if that's even what they really are, came back to finish the job.

Only two hearts still beat inside the house: Marcel's bruised one, slowed by the effect of the venom, and his daughter's, small but so strong.

Klaus walks up to his former protege. Marcel is sitting on the ground, back against the bloodied fountain, his face streaked with silent tears. His daughter looks so impossibly small in his arms, but so calm. She's no longer crying, but he can see her little eyes open, marveling at this new world around her with quiet interest.

"I thought there would be more time," Marcel says, his voice weak, defeated. "I was too late."

Klaus would've killed every last one of these vampires himself just mere hours ago. He almost killed Marcel. But he still finds himself feeling sad for the other man. He was tricked by Francesca, incensed against the werewolves to distract Klaus from the real threat looming over his household. Marcel lost all his friends, Klaus lost Caroline, nearly lost their baby, and the witches lost their sacrifice — and their lives. The only winner tonight was Francesca, the player no one ever bothered with, never even noticed.

"You took my daughter so I would come here to heal you and your friends," he says, pulling back his sleeves and putting his arm out for Marcel. "Here."

The younger man looks up at him, his expressive, overbright eyes filled with anguish. "This bite... All this... I know it didn't come from nowhere. This is the last note in a song I started a century ago, when I brought your dad to town. I'm sorry, Klaus."

If he'd heard those words last night, Klaus would've spat it back in Marcel's face, levied an accusation in return, told him he deserved every last terrible thing that happened to him. He was full of hatred last night, determined to kill whoever stood in his way and put an end to these disputes. Now, though... He’s not too sure yet, but his daughter’s presence is enough to grant him some renewed perspective.

Klaus has made so many mistakes that have deeply hurt and disappointed the people he loves. His siblings, Caroline, even their child. His hatred and vengefulness over Marcel and Rebekah's betrayal drove Caroline away from their home, made her stay in the Bayou for over a month. From the top of his arrogance, he believed he could control every single supernatural being in this town, subdue them into obedience, eliminate them if needed. And it was this arrogance that ended up almost costing him everything.

"No," he says as he crouches down in front of the other man, putting a hand on his shoulder and catching his gaze. "You saved my child's life, Marcel. For that, I will be eternally in your debt. Please." He puts his arm out for him again, and this time Marcel doesn't turn down the offer. He sinks his teeth into Klaus' wrist, drinking his blood. Almost as soon as he pulls away, the ugly wound on his neck starts to close. "We will take down whoever brought this upon us. I swear."

Marcel gives him a tiny nod, and then he gives the baby over to Klaus.

He hesitates a second before taking her, this fragile, tiny life saver. She makes a little noise of complaint when he settles her on the curve of his arm, and then she stops, looking into Klaus' eyes as though she knows him.

A smile tugs at his lips. "Hey, there," he murmurs. It's unbelievable that she's really here, that she exists at all. Klaus realizes it hadn't fully sunk in yet. It's the most surreal moment of his entire existence, for certain. A warmth spreads across his chest, radiating all through his body, and Klaus knows in that moment that there is absolutely nothing he wouldn't do for this little girl. It's a kind of love he's never felt before, unconditional and stronger than himself. It's hard to believe he was capable of making something this pure, this perfect. Well, he didn’t. Not on his own. It's Caroline’s doing, of course. Their little girl is all her.

He wonders if there was ever a time when his parents felt this way about him, right after he was born — his mother, even though she knew he was the product of her infidelity, and Mikael, still unaware of his origins — or if he was held in contempt from his very first breath. Klaus can't imagine ever turning on her, ever wishing her any harm, no matter what. It just makes him realize how truly monstrous his parents were, if even someone as damaged and bitter as him can feel this kind of love for another being.

"I never thought that was a look I'd see on you," Marcel says, grinning. "Careful or you’ll drool all over her. Congratulations, man. You're a dad."

Klaus smiles. "I suppose I am."

 

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"Why?" Caroline demands, her voice cold and level, but drenched in venom. Anger darkens every line of her expression, and Elijah notices something sinister in her unflinching stare.

She's different, and not just in the obvious manner. Yes, she's in transition, something neither human, nor vampire. Part of her is still navigating this limbo between worlds, between life and death. A change in behavior is to be expected. But what those witches did to her — it transformed her in a more fundamental level. It could be temporary, an awkwardness spurred by her amplified emotions and the sheer hatred consuming her. It's understandable. But Elijah had never seen her looking so... ominous.

"The ancestors gave me no choice," Genevieve replies, exasperated.

Elijah cuffed her and tied her up in a way she cannot use her hands to focus a direct attack on them. And if she were to attempt a spell — well. He's quicker than her. She must be awfully uncomfortable, not to mention sore. He would've finished her off quickly, but Caroline stopped him. She wanted to look Genevieve in the eye and ask her why.

"You know why," Elijah told her.

"I know why her ancestors wanted my daughter dead. I don't know why someone like her would have the courage to do it."

 _Because she's a monster_ , Elijah wanted to tell her. But aren't them all?

After everything Caroline's been through, if staring down at her murderer and demanding answers was the way to quiet her spirit and give her closure, then so be it.

"You were willing to sacrifice an innocent child for more power," Caroline snarls at her.

"Not just power. For my life. It was the ancestors' decree. It was her decree." Genevieve's voice quivers, and Elijah grabs her face none too gently, forcing her to look at him.

"Whose decree?"

"I'm surprised you have to ask. After all, you were the one who convinced your siblings to consecrate her in New Orleans soil."

Elijah pushes Genevieve back, a cold feeling spreading through his guts. He exchanges a glance with Caroline. "Esther," she says.

"So not even death can stop my mother from seeking the annihilation of her own flesh and blood."

"This isn't the end," Genevieve continues. "As long as that child lives, the witches of New Orleans will never stop coming for it - _Esther_ will never stop coming for it. It has been decreed. Your baby will be consecrated among her ancestors. She will not live." The witch lets out a pitiful wail as bloody tears run down the corners of her eyes. "They're coming for me. I failed. Please... Understand, I just wanted to live," she appeals, staring at Caroline, whose expression remains impassive. "Tell Klaus... I'm sorry."

Caroline takes the dagger the witches were going to use for their ritual and plunges it deep into Genevieve's stomach. The witch gasps, her eyes bulging in pain and fear. And then Caroline pulls the dagger up, cutting her open all the way to her heart.

"I'm not," she says, dropping the dagger as she turns on her heels and walks out.

Elijah's stunned for a moment. The witch was dying anyway, her ancestors were taking from her the life she should've never been given, that was stolen from the last of the Harvest girls, who will probably be rising from the dead somewhere in this same cemetery. It's hard to tell whether the quick death was a mercy, but it was definitely a gruesome one. Caroline had murder in her eyes, and she acted not to let the witches who orchestrated her death take away her revenge. She was the one to send Genevieve back to the underworld, with a painful twist.

It's their own fault. They crushed her spirit by doing the unthinkable, the most atrocious act possible. Elijah doesn't think even Niklaus, at the height of his cruelty, would be capable of something like that. That she would dare to apologize to his brother... If Caroline hadn't killed her, Elijah probably would.

There's a darkness in Caroline now. And they were the ones to bring it out.

Or rather... His mother was the one to bring it out.

He doesn't know what to think. How could he ever imagine that Esther would, at this stage, still be plotting to have all her descendants murdered? Even an innocent baby, born of a mortal mother. Her own granddaughter. Doesn't she know what that would've done to Niklaus? That he would spiral into the untamable beast they've always tried to prevent him from becoming? Or was that precisely what she wanted, to tip him over the edge, drive her son to the ends of madness? How can she despise her own progeny so much that she'd condemn him to an eternity of misery? He's the product of her affair, it's her fault Mikael subjected him to all kinds of torture and horrors, _her_ fault that he turned out the way he did. And it's not fair that she would decree, from beyond the Veil, that he should suffer and never find even a modicum of happiness to pay for her mistakes. That explains why Mikael stopped by for a visit before the implosion of the supernatural purgatory. Esther must've been the one behind that as well.

Such terrible parents that, a thousand years later, they're still trying to destroy their children's lives.

What are they to do now?

Elijah finds Caroline standing at the tomb's entrance, hiding in the shadows. They're many hours away from sunset still.

"Here," Elijah says, taking off his daylight ring. "Take it. Go back to the compound."

Caroline looks from the ring to his face. "No, that's yours."

"Right now, you need it more than I do. Go to your daughter, Caroline. I can wait here for the sun to go down."

She considers him for a spell. "It's not burning me yet. I can make it back to the compound."

"But -"

"I'll be fine, Elijah. I made it here, didn't I? This is nothing."

With a sigh, he puts the ring back on his finger. Technically, sunlight won't kill him either. Not permanently, anyway. But it will be terribly painful and he'll likely burst into flames before he makes it out of the cemetery. But what Caroline will experience is not _nothing_ either. The sensation is that of a thousand needles piercing your skin, making it raw and sensitive, and then having salt rubbed over it. She won't burn, but she will suffer. Then again, after everything she's been through since last night...

"Put this over your head," he says, removing his jacket, helping her cover her head and shoulders. It won't help much, but it'll protect her somewhat. "Are you ready?"

Caroline nods. And then the two of them dash off.

 

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"We should've known our mother would not be bound by anything as obvious as death, and now she has control of the witches. They will never stop."

Caroline sighs, gently rocking her chair, which she had to pull away from the window. All those times she spent daydreaming about having her daughter in her arms in this chair... Safe to say nothing has gone as she dreamt, as it should. It's all wrong, starting with herself. Caroline feels broken, and even with her baby snuggled to her chest, there's still something terribly disquieting inside of her, in the hollow where her magic was supposed to be. She used to feel connected to the world around her, to the earth and the air, to the energy emanating from all living things. Now there's just this deafening silence and sunlight, the strongest expression of nature, of _life_ , makes her want to die.

But right now she has to stay alive.

The moment Caroline laid eyes on her baby, she crumbled. She was trembling when she took her in her arms, could barely believe that she was really there. She'd only held her for brief seconds before the witches snatched her away, and even though Caroline came back from the dead as though with the sole purpose of rescuing her daughter from the hands of those monsters, a little voice in her head kept whispering that she would never see her again. Yet here she is. Perfect and healthy and quietly taking a nap after having the worst first day of life anyone's ever had.

She feels blessed for this moment, to be able to hold her baby. The mere fact of being alive — or something like that — is a privilege, considering she very nearly wasn't, but all the things she's been deprived of still hurt. She couldn't breastfeed her daughter, had to give her a bottle. Her body is no longer that of a new mother, all the evidence of her pregnancy have been completely erased when she was healed by her new nature. She's not a full vampire yet, but already she feels like less than a human being. This hunger inside of her is not natural, and she's been fighting it since she woke up at the church. It was easy to quench it down while she chased after the witches, but now that things have slowed down and the adrenaline is running off, the craving is screaming again.

The only thing keeping her together is her baby. This impossible love, like nothing she's ever felt, that fills up all the gaps left by her incompleteness. The moment she held her beautiful little girl, she felt her pulse slow down, felt the bitterness in her heart melt away, giving place to something softer that, at least for now, has calmed her a little. The entire world around her narrowed down her child. That's the only glue stopping Caroline from falling apart.

Especially with Klaus and Elijah _whispering_ in her bedroom like she didn't just get a hearing enhancement and can't understand everything they're saying.

She gets that they're trying to give her a moment of peace with the baby while they discuss the unpleasantness without disturbing her, and she can appreciate the sentiment, but what's the point? It's not like she can sit this one out.

"Nor would I expect the Guerrera wolves to back down," Klaus continues. "The baby is regarded as royalty by some of the other clans and, as such, she is a threat to Francesca's claim to leadership. Not to mention... She killed every last one of Marcel's vampires. Their bite is now lethal to Caroline. They will never be safe. The worst of my enemies are now all within this city's borders. And I have brought into the world a weapon they can use against me."

"Then we will arm ourselves. Brother, we've fought every adversary in this town and we have won, we'll fight them again, no matter what they are. We'll make this home a fortress."

Caroline shuts her eyes, stifling a deep sigh as to not disturb the baby's sleep. It's astounding Elijah still believes they can really keep her safe, after everything that's happened. Witches, werewolves and even the vampires, however cluelessly, put down their differences and bonded together against them. _They_ are the enemies to everyone else in this town, and they've proved they're willing to go beyond all limits of civility and decency if it means winning the war, even sacrificing children. This isn't a fair fight. And it will only get worse now that the baby is born.

It's amazing how much of a difference a single day can make in a person's life. Or death, in that case. Caroline would've never thought like that before. She was all about finding peace and giving everyone the benefit of the doubt. Look where that took her.

They can't be naive about this anymore, place their bets on a possibility. There's too much at stake. They have too much to lose.

"I will not have her live her life as a prisoner," Klaus tells Elijah.

"Then we'll leave here, together. All of us."

"Wherever we go, however far we run, those who seek power and revenge will hunt us, they will hunt her. She has inherited all of our enemies with none of our defenses."

"So whether we stay or we leave, we condemn her."

"There is a third option," she says, stepping into the room with the baby still firmly in her arms. Both brothers turn to look at her, almost surprised that she'd been listening.

Caroline wishes she could believe Elijah, she really wishes she could honestly say they'll just fight whoever comes for her. But she knows now that's not true. Last night was the final nail on that coffin. As a witch, there was maybe more she could do to protect her daughter: a bunch of protection or cloaking spells, glamours, charms, amulets... As a vampire, however, a single werewolf bite is enough to take her down, and they're now surrounded by a pack that is just as lethal in their human forms as they are in their furry forms. They can't protect her. Not for sure. Klaus is right. Whether they stay or they go, if they're with her, she is condemned.

Caroline swallows back the tears threatening to come down. "I made a promise to my daughter and to myself that she would grow up safe and loved. And yet here she is, on her first day in this world, with a dead grandmother who is bent on sacrificing her and a dead mother who has to drink blood to survive, and I'm the one who loves her the most." She stops, her voice breaking up at the edges as a sob escapes her lips. What she's about to say is too painful, it actually physically hurts. But it's the only way. "I think..." she falters, takes a shuddery breath."The only thing to do is... Send her away. Somewhere they won't ever find her. Far away from us. While we clean up this mess."

Elijah jumps to his feet, shaking his head in denial. "No. This is insane. You heard Genevieve. So long as she lives, that baby will he hunted. The further away from us she is, the more danger she's in. No one can protect her better than ourselves."

Klaus stands up, walking over to Caroline, stopping right behind her, the two of them facing Elijah. "Not if no one knows she lives," he offers, and she immediately understands what he means.

It's perfect. A little crazy, definitely awful... But perfect.

Elijah's brow furrows into a deep frown. "What is it that you intend to do, brother?"

Klaus puts a hand on her shoulder, pulling her slightly closer to him. "Whatever it takes to save my family."

 

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It's going to take ages to wipe out all the marks of the battle of New Orleans from their house.

Marcel had all the bodies collected and taken elsewhere, said he wanted to give his fallen comrades an honorable farewell, and most of the mess has been cleaned off, but everywhere Elijah looks, he spots something different that had previously escaped their attention. Stained glass, broken railings, crushed lamps... The list goes on.

Above all, however, is the smell. Not all the bleach in the world could erase the smell of blood. Elijah suspects that's why Caroline won't even come close to the courtyard. She's stayed firmly indoors, and the one time she stepped out on the walkway she looked like she was about to get sick, and immediately went back inside, shutting the door behind her.

She hasn't fed yet. By now, the hunger should be so overwhelming she shouldn't be able to think of anything else. All her survival instincts should've kicked in, transforming her into a predator — and everyone else into prey. But she looks completely unaffected, and even averse to blood. It's not an uncommon reaction, especially with witches turned vampires. Their new condition is more like an affliction to their bodies, and the response isn't always immediate. At the same time they crave the blood, their very organism rejects their new state. It's against their natures. Considering how traumatic Caroline's transformation was, he expected her to have a hard time. But he's impressed, he has to say. She's been in transition for hours and still she shows no signs of weakness, perfectly in control of herself. It takes a lot of restraint to be able to resist the cravings for this long.

When Klaus stepped out to get their plan in motion, Elijah offered her a blood bag, but she politely asked him to take it away, with a hard expression across her face. Her reaction caused him some concern, but there's still time, and he doesn't think she'll be feeding while her baby is still here. She's probably enjoying her last remaining moments with her daughter feeling somewhat as her old self.

Elijah is still not entirely sure they're doing the right thing, though. He understands New Orleans is a warzone now, and it will remain so as long as the Guerrera wolves are in possession of the enchanted stones. But where else in the world will this child ever be as safe as with her hybrid father? Or her newly-turned vampire mother? Or her Original uncle? His brother is likely the single strongest creature to walk this earth, and Elijah is virtually indestructible. Caroline will need a minute, but once she settles into her new nature, she'll become a beast defending her daughter. Where are they going to find a stronger or more motivated defense? To take her away from them, is to render them completely useless in protecting her. Niklaus' idea of faking her death is an interesting one, but who's to say it'll work? Or that the witches won't be able to sense she lives, just as they sensed she existed from miles away, while Caroline was still in Mystic Falls, unaware of her own pregnant state?

It's just too risky. There is no perfect option, though. Niklaus was right about that at least; wherever they go, enemies will be sure to follow. It's been like that since the beginning of times. But it would still be Elijah's choice. They could find somewhere far away, secluded, get a trustworthy witch to cloak them and stay there for as long they had to, until they found a way to neutralize the stones and return Niklaus to his full strength.

But it's not up to Elijah. That little girl's parents have made a decision for their daughter and there's nothing he can do but offer his support. No one will suffer more than the two of them, and if it's what they want... Then so be it. Elijah will do whatever is required of him, and hope for the best.

While Caroline and Niklaus joined together to announce their decision, Elijah took a step back and looked, _really_ looked at what he was seeing. Beyond the obvious pain and the heartbreak and the grimness that marred both their expressions, he realized that, in amidst all that fire and blood, they've become the family Elijah always hoped they would be. A unit. Niklaus, Caroline and their baby. It was a mesmerizing sort of realization, but a poignant one as well. It's tragic that it's taken this kind of horror for their bond to become this solid. And it's even sadder that their child is about to be taken away from them.

He sees when his brother arrives back from his errands. They exchange a look, and then Niklaus goes up the stairs and joins him on the second floor, overlooking their thrashed courtyard.

"Did Marcel play his part?" he asks.

"He managed to locate a stillborn baby in a hospital in upstate Louisiana," his brother explains. "He took it to Oliver, said it was her. He'd apparently been kept unaware of certain details of Francesca's arrangement with the witches, thought all they wanted was Caroline, that they wouldn't harm the child."

Elijah bites back a disgruntled sound. Oliver. That traitorous little rat...

"That doesn't improve his situation in the least," he says.

"No, it doesn't," Niklaus agrees.

"Did Jackson know?"

His brother shakes his head. "He's innocent."

Well, that's a relief. As much as Elijah finds it hard to ever trust a werewolf again, no matter who they are, he finds a measure of comfort in the fact that Jackson Kenner wasn't involved, and he suspects Caroline will too. To think that they'd allowed her to live amongst traitors all this time would cause his brother to slaughter that entire pack, who are also distantly related to him. Not to mention it would most definitely crush whatever's left of Caroline's soul.

So Oliver was the only one. Elijah never liked that vermin. Marcel saw him circulating with the Guerreras and did some digging. Apparently he made a side deal with Francesca when he thought Jackson wasn't riling his people enough against the vampires. He was never interested in peace talks, didn't just want a seat on the table or his place back in the city; he wanted blood for blood, revenge for all the years he was forced to spend in his wolf form in the swamp. Elijah knew that was bound to happen. There was no way those werewolves didn't carry any resentment for the abuse they were subjected to for decades. He just finds it interesting that Oliver would be willing to betray his own people to get what he wanted and align himself with a rival pack. Wolves are usually proud and extremely loyal. This one, it seems, was the rotten one in the litter.

When no one wanted to follow him instead of Jackson, he didn't hesitate to jump ship, telling Francesca all about the agreement with Klaus. He must've been the one behind the bombs against his own people as well. Neither Elijah nor Klaus, or even Jackson, ever figured out how those bombs were planted and by whom. They now know the explosives came from Francesca, and so did the bomber, but it would be almost impossible for a stranger to enter the camp unnoticed to plant the second set of explosives without getting noticed. All this time, they'd been looking in the wrong direction. The culprit was part of the pack all along.

On the other end, Francesca had been kindly offering intel to the vampires about an insurgence coming from the Bayou, getting them all ready to strike back and _fight for their rights_ , creating the perfect storm to cover her plan and keep their family distracted while she delivered Caroline to Genevieve and walked away with her prize. It took down about a dozen doves with one stone.

And together, they all came to the same conclusion: Caroline and the child represented a risk. Her, because she was a witch, and the baby because she was wolf royalty.

Oliver never appreciated how close Caroline became with some of the wolves, especially their alpha. He was constantly antagonizing her, but they brushed it off as bickering and let him be. They should've known he wasn't to be trusted when he tricked Rebekah into the woods to help the witches in exchange for having their curse broken, which never happened. It was Caroline and Eve who eventually forced Sabine to undo the spell, and his betrayal of Rebekah remained unpunished.

Elijah doesn't know if he believes Oliver really wasn't aware that they intended to finish the baby as well, but Marcel said his information was solid and that he didn't even know what had happened to Caroline. Didn't care either. All he cares about is that he is now in possession of one of those precious little black kyanites, and that has made him an enemy. When they take down the rest of the Guerreras, he's certain Oliver will be amongst the first on Niklaus' hit list. His death won't be a quick one, that's for certain.

But Oliver's ignorance of the baby's fate gave them what they needed: an opportunity to plant the story. It'll take more to convince everyone, but Elijah has to admit that it's a solid idea. What he's most worried about, however, isn't the werewolves.

"I trust Marcel has fully agreed to our terms?" he continues.

Niklaus lets out a wary sigh, and Elijah turns his face towards him. His brother is a wreck. Perhaps he still hasn't made a complete recover after having his energy fully drained following the full moon, but Elijah doesn't think that's the biggest reason for the ridges on his forehead or the drop on his shoulders, as though the weight of the whole world lies upon him. An altogether different kind of exhaustion has befallen him, one that will take much, much longer to heal. The type that leaves scars behind.

"He has agreed to allow me to compel him to forget what he knows of my child," Klaus says. "In exchange, he wants vials of my blood. I'll provide it to him as soon as I return."

"The witches will have to believe this, brother. Soon that fourth Harvest girl will resurrect. The coven will rebuild. Who knows what kind of orders from mother she'll bring with her from the Other Side? If they sense that your child lives, they will hunt her."

"Our mother is dead, Elijah. And as soon as the Guerreras are dealt with, nothing will be able to touch my daughter again. Especially not a ghost," he spits out, words drenched in contempt. "The witches will buy what we sell. We just have to sell it properly."

There's a long pause, and with every passing second, Elijah can feel the unease growing inside of his brother. He allows the silence to lengthen, giving time for all the unanswered questions and his brother's doubts to die. Regardless of his own hesitation, Elijah knows his feelings are nothing compared to what Niklaus and Caroline are experiencing right now. It'll take a huge amount of courage to let that little girl go and have faith that she'll be safe and better off without her family. The last thing he wants is to add to his brother's already extraordinary ordeal.

But the clock is still ticking. He needs to leave tonight.

"Then all that remains now is to say goodbye," he finally says.

Niklaus nods his head slowly, his eyes distant, thoughtful. "They will be watching us, all of them. If all three of us leave together, it will draw too much attention. I will go alone. They have a memorial up for all the dead of the _gang_ violence that's taken our streets. I've put up a plate for my daughter." He stops, swallows. "Take Caroline and make your mourning public when I'm gone."

"I don't imagine that will be too difficult. Grief, after all, is grief. But, brother... Who can protect her better than we can?"

Klaus turns to him, his eyes sparkling with life for the first time in a long while. "There is one person."

 

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For a moment, Caroline just ignores Klaus' presence. She knows he's there, by the door, can feel his closeness in a strange palpable way even though she hasn't looked up and he was very quiet in his approach, probably trying not to disturb her. It's like a rasp in her awareness, something about him reaching out to poke her attention. It's hard to think she'll ever get used to these inhuman sensations.

She shifts a little in her place, still sitting on her rocking chair, her daughter cradled in her arms. She read in one of her books that physical contact is really important to build a strong mother-baby relationship. Normally, that happens through breastfeeding. So Caroline is doing the best she can with the little she's got to offer. Not in her worst-case-scenario preparations did she anticipate this disaster, getting murdered right after giving birth and being technically not alive to care for her one day-old daughter. Not even her body temperature is right, her skin getting abnormally cooler by the hour as she goes on without feeding. She'll soon reach that point where the coolness will go from uncomfortable to deadly and her organs will start failing, but she's not thinking about that now, not while she still has her daughter here. It won't be for long, though.

Klaus is here to take her away. They agreed he'd leave as soon as he was done tying all the loose ends with Marcel. They needed the vampire to be completely on-board, otherwise it would all be useless. If Klaus is here, it's because it's time.

Caroline feels her heart sink. It's too soon.

"I thought giving birth to her in that church, in chains and surrounded by people who wanted both of us dead, was going to be the hardest thing I'd ever have to do," she speaks, her voice low and weepy, even though she's trying very hard to hold back the tears. She's shed enough of them for a lifetime. It's everything her daughter's heard since she came into this world — screams and crying. Caroline's afraid that's all she'll ever know of her mother. "But having to give her away after just getting her back... It's even worse."

"I'm sorry the beginning of her life has been so violent," Klaus says quietly.

"It's not your fault, Klaus." Caroline finally looks up at him. The sorrow in his eyes is daunting, but an exact mirror of her own. "I know you fought for us."

A complex mix of emotions flickers through Klaus' face — anger, guilt, shame — and then he dips his chin low, looking away from her.

She wants to comfort him, tell him that he doesn't have to beat himself up, that there's no way he could've ever predicted last night's catastrophe. Francesca's plan was extremely intricate, it involved a lot of people, a lot of duplicity towards many different groups and it demanded too many gears set in motion for it to even work. There was a lot of luck, too. Any tiny thing gone wrong and she wouldn't have gotten her way. So claiming that they should've known better, that they should've realized they couldn't trust anyone, that the Mikaelsons are too old to be tricked this way, it may all very well be true, but... How does anyone do that? How does anyone live that way? It's impossible. At some point, you have to trust someone, and in New Orleans, there's always a risk attached. Just ask Jackson. His best friend, whom he nearly gave his life to save, betrayed not only him, but their entire pack.

Isolating themselves wouldn't have helped. They would've still been singled out as enemies and attacked from all sides. And even though Caroline was initially against Klaus' plans and not in favor of inviting Genevieve and Francesca to their table, she eventually went along with it because they ran out of options. Or rather — they were forced out of options.

They've made too many mistakes over the last few months, but last night... It wasn't Klaus' fault, none of them were guilty. The only people responsible for the horrible crimes committed were the ones behind it. For once, Klaus didn't act thinking of himself or his best interests. He would've probably prefered to get everyone in a car and drive as far away from New Orleans until the baby was born, let the city implode and everyone kill each other while they were gone. It would've made his job of taking over much easier once the factions had weakened themselves fighting their meaningless war for power. But he knew there would be consequences, and that Caroline would've never gone willingly. She likes to think that she would've been rational and practical about it, but that's a lie. Her friends in the Bayou would've been mercilessly persecuted the second they were gone. Klaus was thinking of them, and how vulnerable they would be if they'd so much as decided to wait another month before trying the spell again. And he was thinking of their daughter, who would've come into the world right in the middle of all that mess, as a witch-werewolf hybrid.

In the end, Francesca and Genevieve had been counting on their concerns and it was all for nothing. But it doesn't change the fact that Klaus was doing the right thing. Just as he is now, faking her death and taking her away from their family. It's for the best.

How could she ever comfort him, though, when she feels just as responsible? When she has to fight just to keep her thoughts clear enough for her to function, with this emptiness inside and this hunger that is threatening to eat her whole? She wouldn't even know where to start.

"I put everything she's going to need in that bag," she says, nodding her head towards the baby bag she's filled with all the most important items. Formula, diapers, clothes, bottles, pacifiers, blankets and the teddy bear Klaus bought, that used to be inside her crib. "There's also a list on the front pocket with basically everything I could think of. Some instructions and other things she'll need to buy — and what _not_ to buy."

The barest hint of a grin appears on Klaus' lips. "I'll make sure she reads it first thing."

"There's also another envelope." Caroline turns back to the baby. "It's a letter. For the baby."

"She's a bit young to read," he teases softly.

"We don't know how long she'll be away for."

"She'll be returned to us long before that, Caroline," Klaus assures her.

 _You don't know that_ , she wants to say. No one does. But for once Klaus sounds hopeful about something, and Caroline doesn't have it in her to shut him down.

Caroline leans forward, pressing a kiss to the baby's forehead, breathing her in one last time. She takes a moment memorizing every detail on her tiny face — her chubby baby cheeks, the slope of her little nose — and trying to imagine what she will be like in a year. It's hard to tell who she takes after more. Caroline doesn't think she looks a lot like herself when she was a baby, not from the pictures, anyway, but her mom could have a different opinion. Moms always do. She's definitely all Klaus around the eyes, though.

"She needs a name," Klaus says.

And there's also that...

Caroline chews on her lower lip, thoughtfully. "Clara. Laura. Sylvie. Lily. Jenna." Caroline says the last one without really thinking, then she steals a glance at Klaus, who gives her a short eyeroll before finally stepping into the room.

"How about..." he starts. "Eve."

Caroline's eyes widen in a mix of surprise and awe. "Eve," she tastes the name on her tongue, a warm feeling spreading through her chest as a huge smile breaks onto her lips. Her face feels tight, moving those muscles for probably the first time since she was brought back to life.

Klaus gives her a dimpled smile, his expression softening. “Aside from the obvious homage, Eve means life. With everything that’s happened today, how brave she had to be on her first day in this world, how much death surrounded her… She prevailed. I think it’s fitting. A reminder of what we were all fighting for. That not all is lost.”

"Eve..." she repeats, looking back at her daughter. At _Eve_.

"Eve..." he continues. "Elizabeth."

Caroline's smile widens in a manner she did not think herself capable of tonight. "That's my middle name, too."

The look on Klaus' eyes soften into something almost sweet - if that was actually possible for him. "I know."

"Hi, Eve," she whispers. _Eve Elizabeth_. It's perfect. How did she not think of that name? It's astonishing that Klaus was the one to come up with it, but in the best possible way. "I'm so sorry that I have to let you go, but I hope you'll always know that I love you. So, so much."

Bracing herself for courage, Caroline stands up and gives the baby to Klaus, helping him settle her comfortably on the curve of his arm. A shuddery breath escapes her lips, and then tears are streaming down again, hot against her cool cheeks.

"She'll know," Klaus says gently. "Because you'll tell her yourself."

Caroline lifts her gaze to meet his again, and immediately she gets a sharp stab of guilt in her heart. She takes in the scene — Klaus Mikaelson, the cold-blooded, unflappable Original hybrid — with a baby in his arms, holding her so tenderly, heartbroken over the prospect of having to send her away for a while.

All Caroline wanted all those months was for Klaus to make up his mind and become a father already, rather than just someone who's having a child. It's two different things, and as protective as he was of her, bordering on paranoia a lot of the time, he wasn't _acting_ like someone who was ready to be responsible for raising a little person, with all that it entails. Now look at him, staring around the room he put together so thoughtfully, and that won't be used anymore, with such sadness. It took him forever to get here, and now that he is, he has to give it away. It's not fair.

All day today, Caroline wasn't convinced she'd be completing transition. Being a semi-vampire has been terrible enough. She doesn't think she can fully be one. The amplified emotions and screaming memories are still rushing through her like a punch, driving her mad. It's been a struggle just keeping herself up. It's as though she can feel every cell in her body rejecting the vampirism, the worst thing that can happen to a witch. Getting used to this... It might never happen.

 

Caroline decided she was going to let her half-life take its course and not feed. She just had to make sure Klaus left with the baby before she was ready to admit it. If she told him, he wouldn't do what he's supposed to.

Now, though, as she looks at him with their daughter, ready to leave for God knows how long... Caroline realizes this can't be the last time she sees this. Him, and her. As impossible as it is to live in her own skin right now, she'll never find peace on the Other Side — if there's even anything left of it. She's just not ready to give up on her girl. And on Klaus. She'll need him more than ever if she's to make it through the next few months without losing her mind, but he'll need her too. They're probably the only people in the world capable of understanding each other's grief right now, and it seems unfair to leave him alone to weather it. And not only that... But to add to his misery by dying as well. Elijah told her what he was like last night, when he thought she was gone. How he'd found Klaus on the church floor, holding on to her body as though it was his last link to life. Less than a person. Much like herself when she woke up.

She's hurting, but so is he. Different kinds of hurt, perhaps, but still... They're both losing something precious tonight. And Caroline is just not ready to say goodbye yet, not to her baby girl, and not to her child's father.

"Go," she tells him. "Before I change my mind."

He hesitates a heartbeat longer, then he throws the bag over his shoulder and leaves, disappearing down the hall.

Caroline shuts her eyes against the tears, stifling a sob she's been holding back for hours. This is the last she'll cry over this as a human.

Now, she needs to find blood.

 

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Klaus waits outside his car at the agreed spot. He's in the middle of nowhere, Mississippi, with nothing but miles and miles of deserted farmland all around. He drove around for a bit until he was certain that no one was following him. If there was, they've long given up.

She should be here any minute now. He sent her the location as soon as he figured it was safe to stop; she was already close by. While he waits, he takes his time to appreciate the last moments he'll have with his daughter for who knows how long. Ideally, Klaus would like to say they'll be done handling the Guerreras before the next full moon, but something tells him it won't be that simple. Genevieve wouldn't have spelled those stones to draw from his strength without adding a fail-safe against allowing him to make a perfect recover once transformation time was gone. It would be only too easy. He can still feel the lingering effects of the spell now.

And then there's Caroline. She's doing... terribly. Doesn't take much to notice how unmerciful transition is being on her. She was holding on, trying to put on a strong front, but he could see the ruin in her eyes, the misery, all the dread and the discomfort, on top of the heartbreak over their daughter’s departure. Adaptation won't be gentle on her. Witches turned vampire rarely ever have an easy time. Instead of giving in, surrendering to the hunger and the beastly instincts, their bodies fight the new instincts they depend upon to stay alive as though it was an infection. He and his siblings have never really tapped into their magic when his mother turned them into beasts, with the exception of Kol, and not even he was all that keen on it, not back then. Moreover, the original spell was very likely milder on its subjects than the subsequent transformations. For witches who are in full control of their power, perfectly connected to nature's call, it can be a vile thing.

Klaus never wanted this for her. As much as the thought of one day losing her to old age, or the idea that she might not even want to stay with him for long, deciding instead to go live her life next to a mortal, made him grind his teeth in revulsion, he would've never forced Caroline to turn against her will. It crossed his mind, of course it did; eternity with her is far too tempting a thought not to. But now he feels almost guilty for having ever entertained the idea, even if just for a heartbeat.

Creatures made of weaker fiber don't always make it past transition and the first couple of months as a vampire, but Caroline is not weak. She might suffer in the beginning, but she'll come out the other side, of that he's certain. She's too diligent, too focused not to. All those aspects of her personality will be enhanced once she completes transition. He would dare say she has all the required qualities to excel at it; her monster won't ever control her. But she'll need a minute, and it'll likely be the most trying and challenging minute of her entire life. Her horrific death, all the pain and the fear she must've carried with her into the afterlife... It'll all come back to overwhelm her. Having to deal with that as well as adapting to her new strengths and heightened senses, it'll be a test to her resilience. But Klaus knows not a soul more capable than Caroline Forbes.

Yes, she'll make it. If not for her own sake or even for his, then for their daughter. It just... Puts things on hold for a while, probably. Including figuring out how to beat the Guerreras and take back the stones. They don't even have a witch they can trust anymore. That just makes it all the more complicated.

But that's all for later. Right now, Klaus just wants to look at his daughter and all the impossible perfection of her existence. She is beautiful, indeed. And so much like her mother, although... Something about her eyes makes him think of Rebekah. He was hoping she'd be a little Caroline, and it seems like he might've been granted his wish. May she inherit her mother’s temperance as well.

He hears the sound of the car engine before he sees the headlights in the distance. Klaus stands up straight, bracing himself.

The red convertible — with the roof in place, as would be advisable for the occasion — stops, and his heart lurches when Rebekah steps out.

Oh, how he's missed his little sister...

She walks up to him, and a gentle smile breaks onto his face. "Hello, sister," he says.

Rebekah smiles back at him, all the resentment and the millennium-old heartbreak of their last encounter erased from her beautiful features, her eyes glinting in such a tender way that it makes him think she might've missed him too. A little bit, at least.

She takes a step closer, peering at her niece. "She looks like her mother," she coos. "Maybe there is a God after all."

"Well, she has a hint of the devil in her eyes. That's all me." The words hang between them for a lighthearted moment, and then Klaus realizes they need to hurry. There's an infinity of things he wishes to tell Rebekah — about the two of them, about Caroline, about his daughter — but there is no time. There's a lot his sister needs to take care of, starting with getting as far away from here as possible. "You'll need a witch you can trust to cast a cloaking spell."

"I'll get one."

"Be careful. Our mother -"

"I know, Nik," Rebekah cuts him off with a reassuring squeeze on his arm. "I'll get a good witch. They exist, you know."

"I do. I had a baby with one." _And look what happened to her..._ This world has a way of twisting and bending everything that is good and beautiful. But he won't let it break Caroline. And he'll be damned if he lets it take his daughter. "No one can ever find her," he says assertively.

"I know what to do, Nik."

He places a kiss on his girl's forehead. "I promise any soul who wishes you harm will be struck down," he whispers to her. "Just as sure as my blood runs in your veins... You will return to us."

Klaus falters only a moment longer before passing the baby over to his sister. Then he walks back to the car and retrieves her bag. "Caroline's sent this," he explains. "There's a list inside, she said. Everything you need to know. It's probably twenty pages long."

Rebekah lets out a short laugh. "I'd expect nothing less of her."

Klaus nods in agreement, grinning. "And this," he says, taking a small wooden knight from his pocket. "Is from me."

Rebekah's eyes widen in awe, immediately recognizing the piece he sculpted for her a thousand years ago, when they were both only a few years older than his daughter is now. The knight she held on to with all the might of her tiny hands to give her courage through the storms. "Nik..." she breathes out, tears brimming in her gaze.

"Despite our differences, Rebekah, there is no one I would trust more with my daughter's life." He pulls her close, stroking her hair and kissing her cheek. "Be happy, sister."

Rebekah nods. "She will be happy, Nik. I promise."

He smiles at her again. Suddenly he's not so afraid anymore. This isn't what he wanted, and it still hurts to see her go, but... She will be in good hands. The best hands. "I know."

"What's her name?"

"Eve," he says. "Her name is Eve."

Rebekah beams almost like Caroline did when he suggested the name. "Eve Mikaelson."

"Eve Forbes-Mikaelson," he corrects. "Caroline would kill me if I didn't hyphenate."

Rebekah grins. "She certainly would." There's a pause. "Tell her... Tell her I'm sorry. For everything. All this craziness started before she was even born. Tell her I'll take good care of her girl, and that I'll make sure she knows all about her mom and dad, until it's time for her to go home."

"I'll send your regards."

He walks with Rebekah to her car, helps her get the baby settled on the little carseat she arranged, puts the bag safely away, and then steps back as she drives away, disappearing into the night.

 

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There's a monster inside of Caroline.

Before, while she was in transition, it was an emptiness that seemed to spread with every passing hour. A black hole consuming everything around it. But after only a single sip of blood, the hollow gained form, teeth and claws, and it roared into life. It's been howling inside of her, fierce and furious, ever since.

Elijah gave her her first blood bag right before they went out to the memorial, and even then it was a struggle to control herself. She could hear _everything_. Every whisper, every breath, every sob — blood coursing through veins in a weird symphony that guided her eyes directly to singing carotids. Every time Elijah gave her hand a squeeze, she knew her monster was starting to show around her eyes and she'd bury her face in his neck and pretend to be crying until it was safe again.

When Camille came running towards her, tears in her eyes, shaking her head against the horrible news, Caroline almost lost it.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," her friend said between sobs, wrapping her arms around her.

Caroline cried too. Half of it was grief, the other half was in despair at how much she wanted to sink her teeth into her friend. All she could think of was how easy it would be, how nice it would feel. The urge rose up inside of her like madness, such a natural impulse Caroline almost didn't notice what she was about to do until her fangs were already out, brushing against the skin under Camille's ear.

Elijah took her hand and pulled her away. "We have to go," he said apologetically to Cami. "She's still recovering, not supposed to stay outside for long."

"If you need anything, _anything_ at all," Cami said, holding her shoulders. It was painful to see the upset in her big eyes, how heartbroken she was. Caroline was never a good liar, but in this case, she doesn't even have to pretend. She is mourning a death — her own — and the loss of her child. "Please, send Klaus my sentiments. I'm so sorry."

"Thank you, Camille," Elijah replied for her, perhaps realizing that it was taking every ounce of restraint in Caroline’s body not to explode. It was not smart to get her in such close proximity to someone else’s throbbing veins.

As he ushered her away, he kept a hand firmly on her back. "Are you ok?" he asked once they were out of earshot. Of others, that is. The entire city is within her earshot at all times, it seems.

"No," she bit out. "I wanted to eat her."

"You're new. The hunger is a bit overwhelming in the beginning. But you'll get better at it."

Honestly, Caroline wanted to laugh. She held back on it because it wouldn't be appropriate for her to be seen bursting into laughter in a time like this, so she held her head down and bit on her lip until it went away. She felt crazy, but what Elijah said was just...

 _Better_. What exactly does _getting better_ at eating people means? Every single human being on planet earth is now dinner for her. There's no getting better.

When she got home, he gave her another bag, told her to rush to the freezer every time she started getting cravings. "And if gets too bad," he said, "and you feel like you're about to lose it, come find me."

How to explain that she feels like she's losing it the whole time? She's had five blood bags since she returned from the memorial. Five. That's five people she could've killed. Just standing near the window is torture. It's like her head is going to hatch something awful at any moment, but it's not pain what she feels. It's... everything. The wind sweeping across her skin, the old wooden floors creaking around the house, the voices floating in from the street, the lights that are all suddenly so much brighter - the never ending hunger.

And that's not even counting all the things thrashing about in her mind. The punch of emotions is so much worse than during transition. Half the time she feels so much grief, so much sadness, she thinks it'll kill her. The other half she's so overflown with anger and outrage she thinks she might kill everyone else.

How does a person live like this? No wonder so many vampires are insane. There's no way to keep your mind sound through this transformation. Elijah told her he and his siblings snapped one day and ended up killing almost their entire village. He probably thought he was being reassuring when he shared that, trying to make her realize it's _normal_. How can murdering a whole community ever be _normal_? And at the same time... She can totally understand. Caroline could easily bleed the entire French Quarter dry in a rampage and not stop to think about it until she was done. When it takes over, the bloodlust is all there is.

"The guilt comes later," Elijah said. "It crushes your soul. Many can't handle it."

Right. The humanity switch. Caroline never really understood the concept, always felt that calling your humanity a _switch_ was dehumanizing in itself. But she can feel it, as though it's an actual physical thing. A fail-safe button she can push and be done with it. No more pain, no more guilt, no more anger, no more caring about anything. It would be so easy...

A little voice in the back of her head has been whispering to her to turn it off. The stormy ocean drowning her senses and her reason ever since she took that first sip of blood would dissolve into a calm, windless lake in the span of a second. The temptation is real.

So aside from all the heightened senses, overwhelming memories, murderous impulses and the skyrocketing anxiety, there's also that: having to quiet down the little voice telling her to just let go.

She's already questioning whether completing the transition was the right decision after all when Klaus finally returns home.

She hears him talking to Elijah in the study room down the hall, their voices coming in and out of focus as she tries to block out the rest of the noises. He asks about the memorial, whether Elijah thinks everyone believed their grieving, if the Correas were there to witness it. And then he asks about Caroline.

She can't listen to Elijah giving him an account on how fucked up she is, so she steps out on the balcony to let the city's cacophony overwhelm her senses and block out the rest of the conversation. The looks Elijah kept giving her were almost unbearable. Pitiful, compassionate, mournful... Like all he can see when he looks at her is a corpse with its throat slit open. The last thing Caroline needs right now is for Klaus to do the same.

When she hears Klaus coming into the room, she wraps her arms tightly around herself against the sudden chill that settles within her, her temper flaring for no apparent reason. He hasn't even said anything and she's already mad.

She goes back into the room, both because it's impossible to hear herself thinking with all that noise and because her eyes begin to sting after staring at the bright lights for too long. Elijah told her that gets better with time too, that she'll learn how to adapt to all her new senses. _Not if I gouge my eyes out first_ , she thought, briefly considering whether having her eyes growing back inside her skull could be worse than the stabbing pain of staring at fluorescent lights.

Klaus is standing by the door, watching her. He looks like a walking wreck, the strain showing on his face, but there's a glimmer of something there. Like hope or gratefulness. Some kind of relief, maybe. And Caroline realizes, as her gaze comes up to his, that she's feeling something new. Something she hasn't felt yet ever since she completed transition. It's not a spike of anger or a bout of depression; it's softer, kinder, something that allows her to take a breath without feeling as though a thousand needles are piercing through her lungs.

"How was it?" she asks almost without missing a beat. It feels like a million hours since he left with Eve. She wanted to call him and ask if everything was ok, why he was taking so long, but Elijah assured her that it hadn't been that long, she was just feeling time ebb away differently. Every second lasts about a million agonizing ones. Caroline has never been good at sitting down and waiting; the delay now very nearly tore apart the last shreds of her sanity.

"She'll be all right," he replies. "Rebekah will take her far away. She'll find a witch to put a cloaking spell on them. No one will ever find them."

 _No one will ever find them._ It should bring her relief, but the words sink into her like a hook. _No one_ includes herself. _Ever_ is a hell of a long time. And right now, it feels like freaking eternity. But she doesn't trust herself to know of her daughter's whereabouts and stay away, so it's probably for the best.

Klaus looks pensive, his eyes suddenly distant and sad as he starts to speak in an uncharacteristic small voice. "I knew it was the right thing to do, that it was for her protection, but... Giving her away, even to my own sister, was... Impossible. I thought it'd be easy, knowing that it was her best shot. Up until the moment Rebekah took her from my hands, I wasn't sure that I wouldn't change my mind."

"I know," she replies simply. She went through it twice: first when they stole her from her arms at the church, and then when she let Klaus take her away.

He takes tentative steps towards her, but stops himself, like he's afraid of coming any closer. Like he thinks she’ll shatter at any moment.

Truth be told, she wants to. Caroline wants to crack open and catch fire. But more than anything, she doesn't want Klaus to know how _wrong_ she is. Right now, it doesn't feel like she'll ever be completely okay again, like this feeling of inadequacy, as though she’s inhabiting someone else’s body, won't ever go away, but if she surrenders to this, if she sees her fears reflected in someone else’s eyes, if Klaus believes that she won't ever heal as well, then that is when she'll truly crumble.

"Have you eaten?" he asks.

Caroline unwittingly casts a glance towards the discarded bags in the corner, the taste of blood still coating her throat. Klaus makes a face that feels like a punch to the stomach.

She's seen many things in Klaus' eyes over the years. Disdain. Anger. Regret. Jealousy. Adoration. But not pity. Not for her. Rage ignites inside of Caroline, licking through her body like wildfire. Those witches have taken everything from her. Her life, her daughter, everything she knew about herself. She won't let them have this too.

She needs Klaus to look at her as he did when she entered his family's mansion on the night of his mother's ball: like she was the only person in the whole room. In the whole freaking world. She needs the eyes that would fill with lust whenever she kissed him, like he could barely contain himself. The eyes that promised her every wonder under the sun. Not the eyes that see the hole that's been carved into her soul. The eyes that see her dead.

With fire burning hot in her chest, Caroline strides across the room with her jaw set to determination.

"Caroline -"

Before he can treat her to a frown or an excuse, she slides her hand to cup his cheek and smashes their lips together. She needs to feel like herself again, like Caroline Forbes, the girl who revels in proving wrong anyone who dares to doubt her, to tell her that she can't. They tried to break her, but she won't let them. She refuses to. And she will not allow Klaus to bend under the strain either.

They’ve taken almost everything, but they will not have Klaus, too.

He hesitates to return the kiss, taken aback by her abrupt reaction, but she deepens the contact and he stops fighting. His hand resting on her waist, his fingers digging into her flesh through the fabric of her dress like he never wants to let her go. The kiss is a million shades of longing and despair, threaded by a shared grief and also, maybe, relief. The memory of what perfect joy is supposed to feel like. In his touch, Caroline finds the link to her old self. She can push away the emotions that have been threatening to tear her apart and focus only on the taste of him, the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his presence. She can be the strong, fearless girl who woke up in Klaus' bed almost nine months ago with a smile like sunshine on her face.

She pulls away, their foreheads touching, the short hairs on the back of his neck between her fingers.

"Caroline," Klaus nearly whispers, his breath brushing against her lips. It sends a familiar tingle up her spine, makes her arch under his touch, press herself flush against him. Instead of relaxing, though, Klaus' body tenses. "You don't want this."

His tone is soft, and she's sure he means it kindly, concerned for her state of mind, which is understandably compromised. But he's wrong, and his resistance makes she pull harder on his hair, her eyes flashing with a blend of want and annoyance. "You don't know what I want."

Klaus attempts to escape the intensity in her gaze, but Caroline kisses him again, so fiercely now that it cuts straight through all his hesitation. She feels the change in him, how his heartbeat suddenly quickens, the way his touch becomes less desperate, less hesitant, and more possessive. His hands sweep down the side of her body, leaving her skin ablaze, making her ache to feel him closer still.

For the first time tonight, Caroline craves something that isn't human blood, her veins thrumming with a different kind of need. She wants more than to disappear or set fire to the whole world. She wants Klaus. Like she's always wanted, but somehow _more_.

She gasps against his mouth when he slides his hands up her thighs, pulling her up. She wraps her legs around his waist, not breaking the kiss while he carries her across the room, lowering her onto the bed, laying her down with all the care in the world.

"Caroline..." Her name rolls off his tongue soft and curled like a reverence in that lilting, rich way of speaking that she always thought so unfairly sexy. They're both breathing hard and a little wide-eyed, a shimmer of wanton need in Klaus' eyes. It's a spark of the look she's craving, the eyes of the man who desired her. A look that makes her feel like maybe she's going to be all right after all, more than just a broken toy or a childless mother or an out-of-control vampire. She can be herself again.

In that moment, Caroline only exists in his arms. All the gaps left by her magic are filled with Klaus, with how much she loves him, and it flows through her with the same kind of powerful rush that magic did. It’s almost... normal. Different, altered, but not broken, not inhuman. She doesn't struggle to focus. To breathe. To feel. And even if her entire self screams with lust, Caroline finds a measure of peace there, and she holds on to it with everything she's got.

He presses his lips against hers, brief, but it does more to warm her up and satiate her than five blood bags ever could. She cups his cheek again, her fingers brushing against those scarlet lips she's craved for longer than it's appropriate to admit.

"Are you sure?" he asks again, still holding back even as he drinks in her body.

She slides her palms down his torso until she finds the hem of his shirt, gripping it and pulling it up his head. Then hooks her hand around his neck and pulls him back down, her legs wrapping around him again. She can feel the press of his growing bulge, and the familiar fire that burns in his irises. This isn't pity. This isn't pity at all. Klaus _wants_ her, and it's all she needs for now.

"I need you," she whispers, capturing his lips with a biting kiss. "Make me feel."

Caroline shuts her eyes as he takes her mouth in a long, deep kiss, unleashing a greediness that had been building up in both of them for months. He shreds her concentration far too easily, gripping her thigh, his hand sliding up her dress, and it's just as she remembers.

She loses herself in the heat of it, in the passion, and lets Klaus drown out her anguish with the palm of his hands and the wet tip of his tongue.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Klaus can't have been asleep for more than a couple of hours, but it's enough for him to feel as though he were transported through time and space when he wakes up. Captured in the deep of the night from New Orleans and taken back to Mystic Falls, almost nine months ago.

The earliest hours of the morning are perhaps the only quiet time around the French Quarter — right after the late-nighters have finally passed out somewhere and just before the early-risers are out. Sunlight has just broken way past the clouds, peaking bashfully through the window, a light, chilly breeze swaying the curtains. And Caroline Forbes asleep right next to him, her hair spilled around her head like a golden halo, her skin as perfect and smooth as cream, her face a windless sea of peace.

Klaus feels the same itch for pencil and paper now as he did then, inspiration oozing as his eyes rake over every single detail — all the valleys and hills of her body, covered only by a thin layer of sheet. He was there all through the night, touching and tasting all those curves with his lips and his hands, but already he misses the closeness, having her writhing underneath him, gasping and moaning and breathing out his name like a prayer. More importantly, knowing that, in that moment, she was his. She was all his. It was an addict's first smoke after years without a cigarette. Almost too much.

For a second, all the ghastly remnants and the grief of the day before seem to have vanished with the night. Klaus even finds himself smiling, holding back the urge to reach out and touch her, pull a lock of blonde hair that's fallen over her face behind her ear so he can properly see all the light freckles dusting her cheeks and nose.

Last night didn't make anything better, it didn't fix any of their problems or erase the throbbing pain in their chests. The memories of what Klaus witnessed in that church will be seared onto his mind, coloring his every nightmare, long after he's done tearing the ones behind it limb by limb. But there was a bit of hope too in their time together, a healing of some sort. There's a long way ahead still, and it's likely nothing will ever be made right again, not completely. Caroline died. That can't be changed. But they got a second chance nonetheless, so they can destroy the enchanted stones, slaughter every single last Guerrera who dares to remain in New Orleans and bring their daughter back home.

Picking up the pieces is hard, and frankly not something he's intimately familiar with. The few times he's had to go over this have been traumatic and left long lasting scars. But they have to start somewhere. As long as she's here, Klaus can even allow himself to believe in happy endings. Caroline Forbes might truly be a miracle worker, making a believer out of him.

He could stay like this forever, watching her, pretending that they're back in Mystic Falls and the future is still a blank page ahead of them, that things haven't yet gone awry. He feels as the sun starts to light up the foot of the bed, the comforting warmth inching ever closer. It touches Caroline's exposed calf, and then Klaus hears a low sizzling sound, blisters popping all over her skin. Caroline stirs, her face contorting into pain even before she’s fully awake.

In a second, Klaus' bright mood is wiped away as he's brought back to present day reality, where Caroline was brutally murdered after giving birth and brought back to the land of the living as a vampire. In a blink, he's at the window, pulling the curtains tightly closed, immersing the room in darkness.

When he turns back to the bed, Caroline is sitting up, sheets haphazardly wrapped around her as she touches her calf, already healed but for a minor redness.

Klaus eyes her sadly, and then looks away. "I'm sorry," he says, sheepishly. "I forgot."

"It's fine," Caroline replies, not quite hiding the slight panic on her voice, the edges dulled by the lingering drowsiness.

Klaus goes around the room, picking up his discarded clothes and getting dressed with a purpose. "I’ll take care of it," he announces as he slips into his jeans.

"Take care of what? What are you doing?"

"I'll go find Marcel. I'm sure he can convince Davina to make you a daylight ring."

"Klaus." He pulls on his shirt. " _Klaus_." He stops, turning back at her commanding tone. "Get back to bed."

"The sooner we get this done -"

"I don't need a daylight ring."

"What do you mean, you don't need one? Of course you do."

"I mean, I don't need one _right now_. I'm not looking forward to going outside. In fact, I'm good just staying right here."

Klaus frowns, staring at her as though she's making absolutely no sense. "You don't want to go outside?"

"Eventually. But not at the moment, no."

"Why?"

Caroline puffs out a heavy gust of air, closing her eyes. Klaus sees the moment a ripple of anxiety seems to pass through her, her entire body becoming tense, soft creases showing between her eyebrows. "I can tell there's someone walking by right under our balcony. In a hurry, quick heartbeats. I can _hear_ their blood pumping in their veins. It's calling out to me." When she opens her eyes again, they're red around the irises, her veins popping all of a sudden. "I'm a liability right now, Klaus. I shouldn't be allowed to go outside. The longer I’m forced to stay in, the better."

Klaus feels his shoulder sag as the sense of urgency bleeds out of him, replaced by a constricting guilt at Caroline's disappointment in herself. None of this is her fault, and yet she talks as though she's failing for being hungry or having predator instincts threatening to overpower her.

He can't honestly say he still remembers what it's like to be a new vampire. He remembers facts — that the euphoria was terrific; that the taste of warm blood was like nothing he'd ever experienced, addicting and stimulating like the worst kind of drug; that he and his siblings easily went through entire villages in their early days. But he doesn't know what it felt like anymore, to be awash with guilt, to despair in the face of a craving that seems to know no end. Now, even when he does commit mass murder, he hardly ever feels any regrets over it. Then again, he also cannot remember what it was like to be a generally good person.

It's also been a very long while since he last cared enough about someone recently turned. There hasn't been anyone of significance since Marcel, he doesn't think, and that was almost 200 years ago. He'd forgotten how hard it was to see someone he loves struggling with their new nature. It's so difficult for him to relate... There are far too many things about himself that Klaus has grown to abhor over the course of his life, but his nature has never been one of those. He likes being strong, powerful, immortal. He even revels in being ruthless. And he's come to appreciate it all even more since he freed his werewolf side from the binding curse.

Marcel had been eager to become a vampire for years when Klaus finally turned him, he was ready to put up with all the consequences, but Caroline never wanted that for herself. She's a witch, and as such her very nature rejects the crookedness of vampirism.

He feels awfully selfish for feeling that Caroline's immortality is not such a terrible thing, especially when she's so clearly grappling with her new condition. Immortality has brought her back, it has given their daughter the chance to know her mother, and it's given the two of them forever. The jab of guilt is inevitable, though, because this is still all his fault. If he hadn't been so blind in his own greed, so arrogant, none of this would've happened. Caroline wouldn't have died, Eve would be here with them, and their first sunny morning together wouldn't be tarnished by such grimness.

He wants so badly to comfort her, but he doesn't know what to do, what to say. He feels awkward in such a situation, afraid of his own inadequacy to offer solace. Elijah would know what to do, of course. He always does. But perhaps this isn't something his brother can fix — or rather, not something that he should have to. Caroline is the mother of his child, the woman he loves, and he's the one who let her down.

He may not be able to understand her pain — what it was like for her to give birth in such abominable circumstances, to have the baby stolen from her arms whilst she bled to death — but he does know what it felt like for him. It was the single worst, most terrifying moment of his entire existence. And he certainly understands the ache of not having their daughter with them now, of seeing Caroline suffer like this.

He walks over to her, sitting down on the edge of the bed, next to her. "You're hungry," he says, softly. "Your body is forcing you to feed by making you over-aware of your surroundings. It's telling you to hunt."

"I know. That's all I am now, all the time. Hungry."

"It gets better."

"What if it doesn't? What if I'm a ripper, like Stefan? What if, once I start, I can never stop? I had five blood bags last night, one after the other, and I could've easily had more."

"You're not a ripper," he says firmly. "You're nothing like Stefan."

She looks down at her own hands, folded across her lap, doubt clouding her eyes. "You don't know that," she says, in a small, fearful tone.

Klaus reaches out to her, cupping her face gently and forcing her to look at him levelly. "I do know that," he says, trying to find the right words. "Because I know you. Becoming a vampire doesn't magically turn you into a heartless monster. It amplifies what you already are, what you feel. And you're the single most obstinate person I know, Caroline. Your cravings aren't a sign of ripperism, it's just your body adapting to a new necessity. It's telling you what you need in order to survive. But I promise you it gets better, _you_ will get better at it. And, frankly... The way you are, I can't imagine you'll take long to master it. You can bend anything to your will, even indestructible Originals. This will be easy."

He wasn't sure what to tell her to make her feel better, less helpless and let down, but the truth is, as he went, he realized he didn't even have to make anything up, or try to think of the best version of facts to give her. He just had to tell her the truth. Klaus honestly believes if there's anyone that can thrive as a vampire, it's Caroline Forbes.

He remembers being astounded by how she commanded a roomful of proud, supernatural beings during that bash Elijah threw. How the people in the Bayou looked up to her for guidance and comfort after the bombs. She made an ancient pack of werewolves devoted to her; didn't even flinch, _not once_ , while she crossed the entire French Quarter on foot, in transition, to find their daughter. Caroline may doubt herself, she might hesitate at times, but she is a queen, even if she doesn't see it. The kind of flair she has cannot be bought or taught, and it cannot be killed either.

He realizes there's a darkness in her now that wasn't there before, and it's to be expected. The way she died, how they took their daughter away from her, it's bound to leave a scar that cannot be healed like the marks on her skin. There's a shadow lurking beneath the brightness, monsters and raging fury dancing behind her dazzling light. But the light is still there.

As he looks into her eyes, he watches the fear and the uncertainty unraveling inside, the shadows rippling through her, giving a different edge to her gaze, to the way she perceives the world around her. But he can also see the brightness trying to cover up the dark. The worst kind of cruelty could not break Caroline's spirit. And he loves her so much more for that.

Caroline's lips tip up into a tiny grin. "So what you're saying is I'm a paranoid control freak on steroids now, basically?"

"Well." Klaus arches his eyebrows. "Your words, not mine."

Caroline chuckles weakly, taking is hand in hers. She traces the lines on his palm with the tip of her finger. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a very short life line?"

"What is a life line?"

"It's that line here," she says, tracing it again. "The longer your life line, the longer you'll live."

"That sounds positively scientific."

"Says the hybrid," Caroline grins. "Yours is very short, which suggests an abrupt interruption. It's ironic, but it makes sense at the same time." She pauses, her expression becoming more somber all of a sudden. "How do you do that? Live forever."

"I don't know. You just do."

Caroline swallows, still not looking him in the eye. "You know, last night... I was pretty certain that I couldn't do it. Up until you showed up to take Eve, I was decided not to complete the transition."

"What?" Klaus bites out, suddenly all serious. "You were going to...?"

"Die?" Caroline nods, finally meeting his gaze. How can she look so placid whilst telling him that she planned on killing herself? And while he was conveniently away, nonetheless. "I didn't want to be a vampire and, more importantly, I didn't think I could. Transition was hard enough, I couldn't even begin to imagine what actually turning would be like."

"And you weren't going to say a thing?"

"What would you have done? You had to take Eve away, I couldn't simply tell you that — hey, by the way, I might not be here anymore when you come back. You would've shoved a blood bag down my throat."

"Of course I would!" Klaus slams back, all fiery indignation. "You can't possibly think I would've just let you kill yourself."

"And that's exactly why I didn't tell you. It wasn't about you, Klaus. The last minutes of my life were the worst I've ever had, and it was all coming back, playing over and over in my head, nonstop. My daughter was pulled from inside of me in the most brutal and painful way to be _sacrificed_. I held her for two seconds and then they slit my throat. And then I woke up feeling... Broken. _Wrong_. I couldn't feel my magic anymore. Even before I started practicing, I could always feel the world around me, like I was connected to every living, breathing thing, and then... Nothing. It was just... Dead. And that was transition. I knew it would be much worse once I became a vampire. But then... When you took her, and I looked at you, with our baby in your arms... I knew that couldn't be the last time I was seeing her. It couldn't be the last time I saw either of you. So I did it. I went to your stash downstairs and I drank the blood, and I kept drinking. And drinking. And drinking. And then when I went out with Elijah, to the memorial... I almost bit Cami. Right there, in front of everyone. My friend was hugging me, balling her eyes out about my dead daughter, and all I could think about was how much I wanted to eat her."

"Caroline -"

"I know what you're going to say. I got the talk from Elijah. It gets better, you'll learn how to control it, yadda yadda... It didn't make me feel reassured, though. I was... Falling apart, Klaus. I anticipated it would be awful, but it was even worse. It was pure agony. I could still feel the cut on my throat, their hands around me, holding me down as I tried to break free, - your _screams_ were ringing in my head... I was sure I couldn't do it. If I could barely last an hour, how was I supposed to last eternity?"

Klaus finds it hard to keep his voice civil just then, a sour tang in his mouth. "It was my fault. I promised I'd protect you, that I'd never let any harm come your way, but I was too arrogant. In my vanity, I allowed my enemies to come too close, thinking that I could control them or take them all down with a snap of my fingers. I was bested and you paid for it."

Caroline scooches forward on the bed, sliding a hand up his neck and searching his gaze. "We were all bested. We all thought we were doing the right thing and they tricked us. There's no way we could've known that they were all in it together. How was anyone supposed to imagine Francesca Correa was a Guerrera werewolf when her family had been living in the Quarter for decades, right under Marcel's vampire nose, and he never suspected a thing? If you make yourself out to be responsible for something like this, you'll never forgive yourself."

"And I shouldn't. Perhaps neither should you."

"I don't blame you," she says, in a gentle but incisive, clipped tone.

"I've been making enemies my whole life, Caroline. I never realized how dangerous that was because I can't be destroyed and I’ve never had anything to lose. My family can't be killed, and whenever it got too risky, I put them into boxes and dragged them with me wherever I went. Nothing anyone could ever really take from me was truly precious. And then when I did find something that mattered, more than anything else... I was careless. What I feel for you doesn't just come by for creatures like me. I can't love something as much as I love you and let you be killed right before my eyes. There's no excuse."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Caroline's eyes widen in surprise. She's rendered speechless for a moment, her heart giving a sudden lurch in her chest.

It's the first time Klaus has ever used the _L_ word. To her, anyway. She doesn't even know how to react. Deep down, she's known this for a while, but there's still a power behind that word. It's definitely not every day Klaus admits to having feelings for anyone, but to actually say it out loud that he _loves_ her... Even if it's just the two of them, Caroline feels the weight of his confession. She doesn't think he even realized what he was saying; it just slipped out.

As the initial shock wears off, Caroline wants to wrap her arms around him and pull him into her, but the look on his face stops her. At the same time a radiant feeling spreads across her chest, Caroline's heart breaks a little at his pinched expression, the shame darkening his face, the sheer hurt in the murky blue of his eyes. Klaus is a wreck, awash with guilt, ready to retreat back into his shell of misery and self-pity.

She regards him studiously, trying to find the right words to let him know exactly what's going through her head, to make him understand how he's the very thing keeping her together right now. But translating the most convoluted set of feelings she's ever had in her entire life into words is a challenge.

"Stefan told me once how vampires have some obsessive tendencies, because of all the emotions," she starts, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue. Klaus gives her a very confused look, but Caroline just ploughs on. "He said, when it gets too much, doesn't matter if they're new or not, they — _we_ — will focus on just one emotion, in order to placate the rest. He was trying to explain to me what was happening to Elena after she turned. She was off-balance, obsessing with your sister, trying to pick a fight that would probably end with her dead. He said she was focusing on one thing instead of letting everything in at once. It made sense, but I never really understood the mechanics of that, how it was possible to obsess over just _one thing_ like that. Well... Last night I think I finally got it. I was totally overwhelmed by these... feelings. It felt more like torture, though. Like I was getting beaten into the ground by emotions. No one was built to be overrun by so much, so fast. And at some point, I don't know when exactly, I just knew that no matter how hard I tried to fight it, I was going to give in. It was stronger than me. Either one of those emotions would break me or all of them would.

"The thing is, I didn’t have many positives to hold on to last night… I could've focused on the pain, the heartbreak, and then I'm not sure I would've made it through the night. Or I could've focused on the rage, the thirst for revenge, and become a killing machine in the blink of an eye. Or... I could've given in to the emptiness. To the hole inside of me where my magic was supposed to be. Let it take over and shut down my emotions so that I wouldn't feel it anymore. It would all be one big nothing. It was tempting. It still is, a little bit... Just seems easier. But instead… I focused on you."

Klaus' eyebrows bunch, a puzzled expression clouding his handsome face. "I needed something to hold on to, something strong enough so I wouldn't drown in all the awfulness. I needed to feel something that wasn't pain, or guilt, or anger, or hunger, to remind myself that I still have a _human_ soul, even if my body isn't anymore. And what I found... Was you, Klaus. How I feel about you.” Caroline pauses, her lips curling almost imperceptibly at the edges. “I love you."

The creases between Klaus' eyebrows deepen before smoothing out, her words registering like a shock. Caroline's smile spreads. "I died a couple of nights ago and I never said it. You should know that I love you. You should know that the reason why I even made it through the night, why I'm here right now, is you. It's because I love you. Because you made me remember, even if you didn't realize it, that I still have light inside of me, that I deserve to be loved. There was never anyone else for me, Klaus. It was always you. Only you."

She lets her confession travel, sink into him, and for the longest time, Klaus just peers at her, something vast and silent in his eyes. And then, slowly, a smile breaks onto his face, those stormy clouds dissolving at last. He leans forward, one of his arms snaking around her waist, their noses almost touching, giving Caroline enough time to move away from his grasp or stop it if she wanted. When she doesn't, he finally kisses her. Slow and soft and thoroughly. It's need and fondness and devotion, all mashed into one kiss.

When they finally pull away, Klaus looks the perfect mirror of how she feels: ecstatic, a little shaken and not entirely believing that, after everything, there's still some measure of happiness to be found. They haven't taken everything from them, and as long as they've got each other, they can still make it right.

"Promise me that we will make them pay," she says, sweet revenge flickering through her eyes, her mouth watering in anticipation.

"Every last one of them," he replies.

"I want to see the moment the light goes out in Francesca's eyes."

"They'll be brought to justice. We'll kill everyone who would dare hurt our daughter."

"And then we'll bring her back to us."

"I promise you, Caroline, I won't rest until she's here, with us, as a family.”

That's what they are now. Family. And their bond is stronger than any Guerrera and any witch could ever hope to break.

Caroline presses a quick kiss to the corner of his lips again, sealing the deal. From this day on, they don't stop until Eve is back in her home, with her parents and her uncle — and, hopefully, her aunt as well. It's a promise.

"Then say it again," she coaxes.

"What?"

"What you said before. But wipe the misery off your face."

A luminous smile spreads across his lips, cutting dimples into his cheeks, a glimmer of mischief in his blue eyes. And to think Caroline spent so many years denying the electricity that courses through her when he looks at her like that...

"I love you," he says, the words tender and warm, his unflinching gaze fixed on hers. "I love you, Caroline Forbes. Always and forever."

Caroline smiles like sunbeam, kissing his neck and then the edge of his jaw before gluing her mouth to his once more.

This isn't their happy ending. Not yet. But it's a damn good start.

 

_Said I loved you without hesitation  
So easy for you to break my foolish heart  
Now I wonder if you ever speak my name  
Will I always be defined by my mistakes?_

_In the eyes of a saint I'm a stranger  
We're all trying to find a way  
At the death of every darkness there's a morning  
Though we all try, we all try  
We're all one step from grace_

_I made myself believe  
There was no fight left in me  
But redemption doesn't fall down at your feet  
In the half light, we raised a hand to my defeat  
And I watched the world fall  
And I rebuilt it piece by piece_

_In the eyes of a saint I'm a stranger  
We're all trying to find a way  
At the death of every darkness there's a morning  
Though we all try, we all try  
We're all one step from grace_

 

 

**The End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **SCREEN GOES BLACK. ENTER THE ORIGINALS LOGO. BLOOD DRIPS. ROLL THE CREDITS.** TA-DA! :D
> 
> A/N 1: Regarding the baby name, I understand not everyone is going to be happy about this, but I had a thorough conversation with my beta (who was originally against this name choice) and she agreed, after reading this, that it was a fitting idea. And I personally liked it, it was my original idea, so I decided to go with it. If there's one thing I learned from that survey I conducted a few chapters back is that everyone has their own preferences, so I obviously don't expect you all to appreciate it. I do hope you'll feel good about it anyway, but if you don't, I feel really sorry, but it's done. lol 
> 
> A/N 2: I just want to clarify, in case anybody did not watch TVD/TO or simply don't remember, that I didn't pull the whole "witches have a harder time transitioning into vampires" thing out of my ass. That's actually very canon. I'm saying this because some people might think 'Caroline is the best vampire, she would never' and things like that, but, even though she did have a hard time in her early days as a vampire, I figured, since she's a witch in this story, it would be even worse for her. Hence, this. Basically.
> 
> A/N 3: I know a lot of you were expecting her to be a heretic or even a regular hybrid. Sorry to disappoint, folks! lol Heretics are syphoning witches, which wasn't her case, and she's not a werewolf, so the hybrid part didn't really work either. She's a vampire (which feels like full circle to me? even though I liked witch!Caroline? I don't know). HOWEVER. In my head, there are some particularities to her condition, but I won't go into it cause it's irrelevant here. **IF** I ever decide to write season 2, and you still feel like reading it after this finale, you'll hear all about it.
> 
> A/N 4: The song at the end is the one that would play in that final (in my head, that is lol) scene. It's _Grace_ , by Rag'n'Bone Man. Did I totally steal that from the Season 4 finale? Yes. Do I care? Not really.
> 
> A/N 5: Yes, I realize the finale reads a bit open, but I also did write warnings about this several times before, and I believe some people even asked me directly and I was always honest about this. The Originals season 1, period. I tried to tie up the loose ends as best as I could, considering. I mean, season 1 finale is BLEAK, for those of you who haven't watched it. Like, everything hurts and we're all dying kind of thing. There's no closure for absolutely anyone. This at least puts our people in the path for redemption (and also in bed, which is where I wanted them to get since the very beginning) with a plan.
> 
> A/N 6: _But Yokan, will you be writing season 2?_ The answer is **I don't know**. A month ago, it would've been a definitive NO. Now, I may be feeling more inclined, mostly because it's being very sad for me to say goodbye to this universe that I've come to enjoy a lot more than I ever thought I would. But writing another 300k words season is A LOT of work and A LOT of dedication and I'm not sure I want to commit myself to it because, frankly, I don't know if I have the motivation. Last few updates have been very slow and I'm thinking a lot of people might have given up and dropped out of reading this, so that's motivation number one gone. I'm not gonna ask you guys to comment and let me know if you'd be interested because, honestly, I DON'T KNOW IF I WILL EVER WRITE IT and there isn't a specific condition to make me change my mind. Having said that, if not enough people are interested, if you all hate this and never want to read anything by me ever again, I definitely won't write it. So this is Schrodinger's fanfiction for you. lol 
> 
> But I'm more looking forward to knowing how you felt about THIS story and this finale than whether or not you'd like to read a follow up. If you did like this, then I'll know you'd be likely to give season 2 a try (at least in theory lol). So if you do feel like dropping me a note here and making me feel better about this story and completing such a bold project (by my own standards, for myself, of course), then I would love nothing more than to know more people out there have enjoyed reading this journey as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)
> 
> Since this might very well be the end of the line, thank you SO MUCH to everyone who stuck with me throughout this season and especially to those of you who were kind enough to let me know you appreciated this story! Writing this pushed me through some complicated moments and I am truly grateful that I had your comments and opinions and messages to motivate me to keep going. Truly appreciated it, guys!
> 
>   _Goodbye!_


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